It is such an uplifting feeling to march with thousands of your own kind, through the city streets, dressed in all our gaudy finery, with our fists in the air, celebrating our strength.
Ireland has become a good place to be gay in recent years, but being gay is not for the faint of heart even now. There may only be occasional acts of violence, but living as a big old gay in a straight world can be an occasional hassle. But on Pride day it’s as if magic occurs, and for that golden day, once a year, we are the mainstream.
My friend asked if I wanted to try some of her lipstick. Obviously I did, but as I was going for a particular look I made sure to get some on my teeth.
As I approached the assembly point the gay national anthem bellowed through the speakers.
‘Yes Cher, I belieeeeeve’ I squealed in response. Although at this point I think the question is rhetorical.
As the sun was shining I filled my bag with bottles of water.
We joined the ACT-UP contingent. There’s nothing corporate about those boys. They are angry, obstreperous queers.
‘PrEP stops HIV’ we roared as we glided through the streets.
I may have made a vulgar gesture at the protester with the ‘Sodomy is sexual abuse’ sign but I can’t remember.
I spotted David Norris in the crowd and I yelled ‘Happy Pride Senator Norris, I love you’ at him.
Looking at the tens of thousands of people in front of me and behind me made my eyes well up momentarily.
‘Pull yourself together Murphy, you great, wet lettuce you’ I said to myself and I screamed something about football being a game of two halves (Actually I didn’t – I was too busy singing ‘Vogue’ by Madonna. )
In Smithfield Square at the afterparty we listened to the Swing Cats Big Band performing for thousands.
Much as I love lesbian poetry, it is not perhaps the wisest choice to entertain thousands of partygoers. We were hungry by this point so decided to go for food.
We exited the square and immediately stumbled onto the Cat Lounge. Food would have to wait. For five euros we got to spend thirty minutes in a cat sanctuary in Smithfield where the only rule was that stroking the beautiful cats was compulsory.
An absolutely splendid way to end the adventure.
Happy Pride from Dublin.