Bear Pride: Mid-stream report

This may be the best Bear Pride ever.

I'm going into with basically zero expectations. I'm not trying to get laid, there's no one I must see and nothing I must do. As a result, everything is gravy--and, lemme tell you, I'm rolling in it.

Yesterday, I took the day off and spent the morning taking care of crap (mostly financial) so that I could feel justified playing all afternoon and the rest of the weekend. monshu and I officially opened the festivites and set the tone at Maller's Deli. When we were discussing lunch choices downtown, I described it as "bad but good". He seized on this as the theme for the weekend. Afterwards, full of pastrami and vanilla phosphate, I headed with him to the Palmer House for the irreproducible spectacle of a roomful of leathermen jostling with the usual guests. If you find yourself in the Loop this weekend, it's a spectacle you should treat yourself to. The Leather Mart is also a heady experience, but definitely a not-for-everyone kinda thing.

Nuphy and the Swiss Miss joined us at our second-storey perch for a while (as I ogled a white-beared leatherdaddy across the way) but cut out rather early for their disco nap. monshu had gotten himself up at the most unearthly time, so we made an early evening of it: chicken-friend steak (mine) and the "black and blue burger" (his) at Buddies and a retreat to chez lui for more animated chat and a fantastic reaming. We took our time the next morning and still made it back to Buddies for brunch well before Nuphy and his boy. They must've been understaffed because service was glacial. But ottr4bear had used his bear-repelling otter powers to save the best table on Buck's patio for us.

The rest of the day was frittered away in drinking and banter as a sea of bears ebbed and flowed around us. I broke away for less than an hour to check out the online party for LJ folk--which was totally worth it because I ran into aadroma, vianegativa, and tbearpsy all in short order. On the way up, I had Evil Santa and his two foreign friends for an entourage and felt totally comfortable shirtless in a leather vest. On the way back, I swung down Broadway alone to score some yuppie food stamps and felt totally self-conscious. I was like, Where the hell did all these straight people come from? (Only then did it occur to me, btw, that if I had stayed a little longer, I probably could've snogged ES' Aussie in the darkness of CellBlock. He was cute and very sweet and who cares really? All I really wanted at that point was to be back among my good friends.)

To my delight, the Brazilians from last year were back. Then I made the mistake of trying to speak the handful of Portuguese I knew; this time, I was ready to use Spanish, which virtually every Portuguese speaker can understand, instead. Turns out half the couple is Argentinian anyway. He stripped down and headed out to collect admiration while I banged along as best I could with his very oddly-named lover. (Would you believe Vaguinel?[*] I didn't and still don't!) Other friendly faces were Oz and Dr Detroit from my naked days, Daddy Bishop (who I had begun to entertain morbid thoughts of, I'd gone so long without a sign of life), a smattering of old bear club acquaintances, and a couple of Monshu's buddies who basically stayed in the corner and talked to him the whole time.

When the group was down to just me, monshu, Ottr, and Cracker, we followed our rumbling tummies back to Monshu's and ordered from Mei Shung. (Which saved me from the invasive advances of a very friendly bear from Michigan; there he was, trying to get a look at my cock and I'm all like, "Uh, guys, have we decided on a plan for dinner yet?") Ottr was in a surprisingly reflective mood and had apparently been waiting for the chance to bounce off me musings about our wild 'n' crazy days. They left over an hour ago, monshu crashed soon after, and now I'm staying up to watch an eBay auction for him. I'll sleep in tomorrow, the better to be ready for the dance party (at Metro of all goddamn places) tomorrow night. Then Monday is a replay of today, only at Sidetrack with pricier drinks and video entertainment.

[*]Update: Silly me! It sounded like "Vaguinel" and I did find that name in a Brazilian context when I Googled it before posting, but now I've seen it in print and it's Vagner. What else would a paulista of mixed Spanish-Italian heritage be called? Yes gods, I love the New World!)