

At the Frolic Room, June 16th, 2022
It is a cool cloudy night in Los Angeles with high humidity. The Powder Blue Tuxedo Boys are at the Frolic Room enjoying the warmth and clean filtered air in the bar.
The clock has just struck midnight.
The barman comes by and gives the boys another drink.
Patrick and Timothy are watching the TV News on the television above the bar. The Gay Pride Parade is being shown.
TV announcer: Today’s Gay Pride Parade was in Los Feliz. The parade then went on into Griffith Park up to the Observatory. The Grand Marshal was Congressman Adam Schiff.
Adam Schiff is shown on camera. He’s wearing a rainbow armband and a pink suit. His beady eyes stare at the camera.
Adam Schiff: I am so proud of our LGBTQ community. They are the heartbeat of our city.
Timothy: Isn’t that your neighborhood?
Patrick: Yeah. I could hear the parade from my house. Hell, I could smell it.
Timothy: What did it smell like?
Patrick: Cheap cologne and KY Jelly.
Timothy: Are you sure you weren’t having an acid flashback?
Patrick: You were the one who wanted a bottle of Brut cologne for Christmas.
Timothy: That was in 1970!
Patrick: And you still smell like it.
The bar is almost empty on a Wednesday into Thursday night. A couple of actors from the Pantages Theater next door are drinking in a booth talking about their performance in the play “Death of a Salesman” a few hours before.
Patrick and Timothy can overhear bits of their conversation.
Patrick: Have you ever seen “Death of a Salesman”? That must be one of the most depressing plays ever written.
Timothy: Not a happy story.
Patrick: So which one of those actor is Biff and which one Willie Lomax?
Timothy: Does it matter? Isn’t that the point of the play?
The door to the bar opens and in comes several brightly dressed, tattooed, and pierced Gay Pride participants. They are talking loudly as they enter.
Gay One: Oh myyyyy! It’s the Frolic Room. Who’s up for a frolic?
Gay Two: I’m always up for a frolic.
Gay One: Let me see… oh, yesss.
Patrick: Oh, shit.
Timothy: Double shit.
The gay men, transvestites, and a couple of lesbians gather at the tables near the bar. They order drinks.
The transvestite who is trying his best to imitate Britney Spears goes over to the ancient jukebox and looks at the selections.
“YMCA” comes blaring out of the speakers.
All of the Pride Parade members start laughing.
Gay One; Ohhh, that brings back memories of the golden days.
Gay Two: I can so see you as the Indian in that band.
Gay One: And you were the cowboy!
They laugh uproariously.
Patrick: I suppose we should go.
Timothy: I suppose.
The boys pay their bill leaving a generous tip. They walk out onto Hollywood Boulevard.
The stars and the just past full moon are obscured by clouds. The air is humid. It is about sixty degrees.
Patrick zips up his Maserati leisure suit and puts on his wrap around gold sunglasses.
Timothy zips up his insulated OshKosh coveralls and puts on his Cornhusker cap.
Patrick: We aren’t in South Dakota. Why do you wear that ridiculous outfit?
Timothy: I’m cold and this keeps me warm.
Patrick: I’ll call an Uber. Do you want to come over for a beer? I’ll light the fireplace.
Timothy: Sounds good to me.
Fin

