For this gal, Pride is about friends and drinks, and drinks with friends. I’ll go anywhere for these said drinks with friends, and have spent past Prides in some very interesting places. Last year I made no plans and had not a clue how I was going to spend Pride Sunday. I woke up in a stupor at a stranger’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen Sunday morning after a wild romp the night before at Vlada. We took a cab to my place so I could change outfits and touch up my face. (Yes, I often need little touch ups.) Our initial plan was to go somewhere and watch the Parade, however, before I knew it, my apartment was full of drag queens and club kids and one King Ralphy who invited us to a Pride party he was hosting at Midtown Loft and Terrace. It’s around the block from my place and on a rooftop on a gorgeous summer day in Manhattan? Sign me up!
