Drinking with the U.N.

So we're standing outside The Yard on Sunday night taking in the post-Soho Pride aftermath. It was a free night of open containers and drinks to go take away from the bars. For one night only, London was magicially transformed into the French Quarter.

I was hanging out with 2 Australians, a Kiwi, a boy from one of the slavic countries (perhaps a small fishing village wedged between Estonia and Lativa, who can remember?), and a sole Londoner. My favorite South African ambled by as well. Later that night I danced with a fabulous lesbian couple (one from the Upper East Side and the other from Mississipi) and a Brazilian prince with a smile almost as enchanting as the booty he was shaking.

There was also the little Chinese lad who thought that a bathroom stall was a good place to have sex, but I passed on that. I'm happy to kiss a cute boy in line at the loo, but he has to come up with a better line than "prease dlop tlousers and glab you ankres" when he opened the door to the stall. Bless him, he was all of 5 feet ... what was he going to do, stand on the toilet?

Ah yes, Britain is so civilised.

Are there no English people here?