Hooray! I met a man selling tours on the street. I politely informed him that I was already familiar with all of the destinations he offers. He said, “No I want to give you this.” He handed me a red flyer, an invite to a gay posada. He said he recognized me from my participation in the comparsa, the celebration for gay marriage.
I looked at his glowing skin, his sparkly nose ring, his wavy hair. He was radiant as he told me, “I am the queen (reina) next year.”
I can hardly wait to check this out on Friday night. My mom told me someone’d invite me to a posada.
shewhodaresnothing 