I’ve taken up running in Cheesman Park. Cheesman is the Homo-gay park here in the Denver hinterland. I’ve spent a lot of my somewhat adult life in this park, when I was an Ingénue I’d did my French homework as I laid in the grass. Now, this park is best known for men cruising, trying to get inside each other. But, it’s also where the gay rugby, volleyball, and football teams practice. And were bears go to sit on the assets. Pretty much the center of GLBT chillin out and having a great time.
Apparently there is a huge clan of gays that jog. Who knew? Well for the last couple of Sunday mornings I’ve decided to join these freaky creatures. You’ll now find me as part of the “running set” and when I say “running” I mean I’m the one staggering through the crosswalks like I'm staging an interpretive dance of Mein Kampf in a sweat soaked Dixie’s Tupperware party t-shirt.
I have noticed a couple of odd things during our private time in the park, me and the health queers. How completely healthy are you that you can run, talk on your Blackberry, and cruise me? Wow, good for you. How lazy are you that you can’t get out of your SUV to cruise me? Just drive up to the next cross walk and wait for me to come around. That’s really hot. Major points are awarded to the bear with the recorder (yes the kind you played in 3rd grade music appreciation class.) Who stands on the corner of 12th and serenades me as prance by like a gazelle. Mr. bear has lost a couple points for not wearing his fez lately.
So, that’s where I’ll be….dying of heat exhaustion, and getting healthy with the cool kids. But on the inside, you'll know that I'm pretending that I just held up a store to get some cash to my German boyfriend before he gets taken out or, something like that.