I never dreamed of a white wedding. Never longed for a veil, a princess dress or a church full of people who turn around at the exact same moment to stare at you. I was instead intrigued by around-the-world journeys, training dolphins in Australia and living with my best girlfriends in a Florida condo a la “Golden Girls.” Yep, I turned out to be gay. I should have known when I chose G.I. Joe figures over Barbies, tackle football over tea parties, and Daisy over Bo and Luke. I played softball in high school — can I buy a vowel? There are three of them in “lesbian.”
I was relieved when I finally escaped from the closet five years ago — no more questions about weddings, boyfriends or my favorite “Sex and the City” character. No more heels, fingernail polish or short skirts. (Note: I do like my toes painted, I wear skirts from time to time, and I shave.) But thanks to our president, this all changed last week when he “came out” in favor of gay marriage. So now the prospect of wearing white and walking down an aisle is possible. Sort of. We’re in Kentucky … it’ll be 20 years before gay marriage reaches our borders — right, Mark Twain?
It got me thinking of what kind of wedding I would have. If I were to stay in Louisville, let’s say, where would I have it? Maybe at Cherokee Park? No, no booze. Maybe in a church? No thanks. How about at the Back Door? Perfect! I’ll just take over the entire parking lot. And I want more sponsors than a NASCAR race — troughs of Bud Light and Miller Lite (hey, if gay marriage can happen, so can a partnership between these guys), BBC and Cumberland (keep it local!), Guinness and Southern Tier 2X IPA. I want fountains of Woodford Reserve flowing throughout. No, let’s make it a river! I want my wedding dress to be dipped in red wax like a Maker’s Mark bottle. I want a cake made out of those chocolate chip cookies from Please & Thank You. Oh, and catering responsibilities will be divided between the Back Door and Dundee Tavern. I want vats of Dundee Dip available on the back of every chair.
I’d like to have my bachelorette party in New Orleans, but I’ll settle for Connections. I’ll register at Target and Old Town Liquors. And instead of rice, you can just throw those little airplane liquor bottles (most of them are plastic now). For the reception, I’d like to get the Velcro Pygmies, Digby and The Ladybirds to play. And Wilson Phillips … if they’re still holding on. I’ll need a couple photo booths as well … with extra props! As for the officiant … who did Liza’s wedding? Or maybe I’ll get Mayor Greg. Forget the rings — I just want the damn keys to the city.
OK, so I think that covers all the bases. Now, how about landing a girlfriend? I’ve got 20 years, right?
Bar of the Week
Whenever I passed the Louisville Pizza Pub (2500 Crittenden Dr., 384-4777) while running errands, I always made a mental note to stop in. It looked like so much fun — picnic tables out front, a large, open-air dining room reminiscent of the old Red Lounge, and pizza. And when I finally stopped in last week, I was not disappointed. It’s a charming little pub situated near U of L and not too far from Germantown (“a few doors down from Denny’s” is the easiest way to get your friends there) with cheap beer ($6 domestic pitchers, $9 buckets of five during happy hour) and delicious food. It’s situated right next to the railroad tracks, and when a train goes by, you can get a beer for $1.50. Woot! I’m down with LPP, and I’ll be back!
Drunk Texts of the Week
• I ate a bug and it wasn’t a dick
• Slamming some sex drive on derby de mayo
• Never look a derby sanchez in the mouth
• Kids are not STDs!
• He bored me sooo much, Im stll sore 2 days later