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| US Capital Pride Images: Observations From The Booth |
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| Opinion - Thompson & Gaughan | |||
| Lisa Thompson & Sharon Gaughan | |||
| Wednesday, 18 June 2008 18:00 | |||
Washington, DC, USA. The alarm goes off at five in the morning, we are due at the festival at eight where we will assemble our booth, put up banners and signs, place handouts strategically to be distributed.
The rain the night before prevented us from loading the car, so we spend an hour or so demonstrating how much stuff can fit in an aging Buick. We bring everything we have we think we’ll need, only enough to fill up the day so that the trip back will be somewhat lighter.
It’s Marketing 501: How many Mardi Gras beads? How many TS-Si orange pens? How many copies of each information sheet? If we run out, we can’t come back. If we had known what we knew at the end of the day, we would have taken fewer beads, more pens — reverse of the previous year. It’s a crap shoot.
The TS-Si beads are a mystifying feature at our booth. We give out free strands in three colors: red, white, and blue. They go like crazy. We see a lot of people walking around with our beads but we do not remember seeing those folks at our booth. Other people drop by wearing last year's beads and ask for some of this year's beads. We oblige, knowing they are identical. Go figure.
Early Sunday morning there is little traffic on the beltway (Greater Metropolitan Washington is sleeping in or getting ready to go to church — interpret the lack of cars as you will). After a thirty minute drive, we check in at one end of the festival, get our booth numbers, and drive in to unload.
 Ten blocks away at the other end of Pennsylvania, the Capitol building dominates the skyline, the morning sun glistening off the white dome. Halfway down on the left, the newly built Newseum rises, a 74-foot-high marble engraving of the First Amendment [N1] proudly displayed on the front wall.
In Washington, DC, even the queer fest has certain majesty.
Other than a handful of early arriving vendors and exhibitors, the street is still empty as are the tents. By noon, the view from this end of Pennsylvania Avenue will be obscured by people, banners, and the smoke rising from the fast food gyros, Thai noodles, sausages, and marinated grilled chicken. This early, the scent of roasting almonds and cinnamon still winds it way unimpeded down the street.
This is how our booth looked underneath our tent: three eight foot tables (one in front, one on the side, one in the back to store our supplies).
 A royal blue table cloth covers the front table; hanging down along the face is the two foot by eight foot, orange TS-Si banner). A red, white, and blue stars and stripes windsock hangs from one corner of the tent.
At the back, there is an old Transsexual Symposium banner to deconfuse old friends who wander by.
As you face the street, red, white, and blue metallic Mardi Gras beads are in a large bowl on the left (boxes more are in the back). On the right, is a bowl of various Willie Wonka wrapped candies; TS-Si orange pens are scattered in bunches across the table. A dozen informational handouts are on display on the front and side tables as are the new brochures. Business cards are placed in strategic locations, a couple signs, just in case you miss the banners.
Although six chairs are available inside the booth, early morning we still stand. Later, as the sun warms the afternoon, we will sit when we can. My two daughters work the booth with us. To our right is a real estate agency.
To our left is the space we donate to HIPS (Helping Individual Prostitutes Survive). At ten-thirty, there is still no sight of HIPS. Ten minutes before the festival opens at eleven, they magically arrive from on the Metro. The girls have had a late night. They are still setting up as the crowd begins to drift in.
Corporate America is everywhere: The Adams National Bank, Bank of America, Ben and Jerry's, Booz Allen Hamilton Inc., Coldwell Banker, Food Lion, George Mason University, Giant Food, MetLife, the New York Times, Northrop Grumman, the Peace Corps, Pepsi, Red Bull, Rogaine, Six Flags, Southwest Airlines, Starbucks, SunTrust, Symantec, Wachovia, Whole Foods, Yuengling … the list goes on.
Every national gay organization, every church with outreach, all the various health providers were there. The festival pride magazine is filled with ads from gay doctors and real estate and insurance agents. Church groups distribute along the midway like fishes and loaves. Everyone wants a piece of gay money and souls — and they all fill tents from here to the Capitol.
By the time the sun hits high noon, people crowd the streets, looking at the various booths, gathering information on AIDS and investments, vacation spots and job opportunities. They ask about TS-Si and we begin our spiels. By late afternoon, we will be as smooth as encyclopedia saleswomen.
Vendors are selling souvenirs from the festival. Most of them are relatively inexpensive, no more than rainbow trinkets. Tee-shirts salespeople are everywhere. Free condoms move quickly. The more expensive items move more slowly. Everyone is looking for freebies (a free messenger bag is one less item you have to buy yourself). People take our pens, one or two at a time.
We recognize several members of congress who stop by our booth individually for information. We don’t acknowledge we know them; they don’t announce who they are as we answer their questions. The Congressional staffers linger longer, ask for more details.
From eleven-thirty to well after five, we are steadily answering questions, passing out brochures and information papers. The only break is an occasional trip to the porta-johns which are steaming on a hot summer afternoon. The restrooms are adjacent to the beer gardens.
Many of our visitors have been to the TS-Si website. Most are complementary and say they often visit the site. A handful of transgenders argue with us, seemingly preferring presentation and political correctness over science and medicine. One man claims that sexual dimorphism really doesn't exist because it only occurs among 98% of mammals. They all move on when they realize that we stick to the science and don’t care about socio-political correctness.
Pride snapshots walk by:
By the end of the day, the orange pens are gone, our voices are hoarse, and our clothes are sweaty. We have answered the questions of dozens of men and women who may or may not be HBS [N2], provided information to hundreds of the curious, explained and debated with the dubious.
We barely have the energy to disassemble the booth and pack up. Sharon gets the task of organizing and repacking our car, but has an additional complication: finding additional space for two of our daughters. She gets it done and receives a well-deserved ovation from onlookers in front of the sports pub on Indiana Avenue.
Then we headed for Five Guys and consumed a guilty pleasure — hamburgers and French fries made the old-fashioned way — while we began our planning for next year. It is almost eight at night by the time we get home — 15 hours after the alarm clock that morning.
  Ms. Lisa Jain Thompson is the Co-Founder & President of TS-Si, Inc. She also serves as a Contributing Editor.Â
Ms. Sharon Gaughan is the Co-Founder, VP, and Executive Director of TS-Si, Inc. She also serves as the Managing Editor and columnist.
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