Operation Pridefest

     After the admission fee was paid, I thanked the gentleman for the ticket and proceeded towards the festivities.  The sun had turned the late afternoon in the park golden, but had not been out long enough to dry up the puddles from the showers earlier that morning.
     Here was a man walking alone, not knowing a soul around him. Walking confident, yet nervous, confident in his dress, confident in his sexuality, confident as he always was... in life.  Nervous, not because he was walking into a gay pride festival, but because he hardly knew the person he was looking for.  What if he didn't find him? What if he did?  All the questions he had prior to entering the festival, not to mention all the questions that get aroused at a gay pride festival paled in comparison to the question that occupied him now, 'who was that gorgeous girl in that booth over there?'
     I walked a few laps around the mud soaked park, genuinely trying to find my friends brother, who had said he would "be around."  After the first lap I expanded my search to include any familiar face to no avail.  So I took in the happenings.  I looked at the booths people had set up; crafts and jewelry and such.  I signed a petition or two then decided, as evening drew near that it was time to go.  But first, it was time to get dangerously close to the woman that had caught my attention.  It was time for an investigation.
     "Wet Basement?" the sign proclaimed.  "Sign up and enter to win a $25,000 basement refinishing."  If fate were to bring about such good fortune as to place an attractive, thin, yet curvy female with long, semi-wavy black hair who could solve my wet basement problem I would be indebted. 
     She stood in the doorway of the trailer/booth that the company had established on the outskirts of the festivities.  She watched the crowd, waiting to see if anyone needed welcomed.  Waited but didn't solicit which gave me my first bit of information... she's not gay.  And so I approached the booth.
     The chatter started about basements naturally.  She was not alone in the trailer.  There was a male co-worker sitting on a chair tucked in the back of the trailers interior, possibly on break, possibly bored.  I alerted her to my query of not finding the person I was looking for and then was handed a clipboard with an application for the 'wet basement contest.'  I bowed my head and began to fill it out.  I racked my brain thinking of something to say.  But first a clarification, as I feel the situation warranted.
     "I support the cause; I am not a part of the cause."  I picked my head up just enough to see if she picked up on this subtle admission of my heterosexuality.  I don't think she got it.  I put the pen down and handed it along with the application back to this incredibly cute girl whose name escapes me and asked "So, if I win, are you gonna be the one who calls me?"
     Obliviously she answered "Yeah, me or somebody else will call you."
     "Well my number is there, you can just call me if you want."
     She opened her mouth to say something and then what had just happened hit her.  Her mouth stayed open in standard gasp form for a moment but no words came out.  The curves of her lips then stretched into a smile as her mouth closed.  She looked at the man in the chair who was speechless.  She started to breathe again, looked back at me and engaged me in a stare.  Still smiling she said "Um, yeah ok...maybe."  I joined her in a smile.
     I walked around the festival in one last attempt to find my friend, but did not.  The summer afternoon had turned orange with beginning of sunset and it was time to go.  I walked past the booth again but kept my distance.  I looked and waved, she looked and waved.
    I never heard from her again.  I did however get a call from someone about a week later, wanting to give me an estimate on my basement.