Provincetown, MASS.

So our driver was kind enough to suggest we drive 30 minutes up to the tip of the cape to visit Provincetown. i think his exact words were, "good people watching there."

We had no idea.





Look! it's a bride just like me!


i captured Peter taking it all in. Afterwards he said, "all that gayness gave me a headache.... A big, gay headache."



As it turns out, we had arrived in Provincetown right in time for the annual parade, unbeknownst to us. We were walking directly down the center of the oncoming parade trying to fight our way through the crowd* for nearly half an hour before stopping to ask someone (a very nice and helpful young man wearing only buttless chaps and a Zoro mask) if this sort of thing was a daily occurance here (oh! Would you look at that, can you believe it's 4 o'clock already.... Time for our gay parade!") when he politely informed us of the event -it was Wild Wild West themed this year- before gently ushering from the middle of the parade to the sidelines, with a perfect view.

Man! Those gays are just too nice.

Fortunately Peter wore his Pendelton cowboy shirt that day, and i my cowboy boots, so i'm sure we managed to fit right in and didn't come across as big dumb tourists at all. Nope, not at all.



* And by "crowd" we mean "official parade floats."