Week Five: "Pride goeth before the fall"
The Phoenix Saturday Market was located just off one side of downtown, several pedestrian-only blocks cordoned off for a huge array of craftspeople and artisans.
Trin and Woofer spent the morning meandering around them, alone. Violet had yet again declined to come, and after she explained to James where she was going after the market he wanted nothing to do with it.
She glared at him whenever he used terms like, 'queer', 'fagot' and 'gay' in a derogatory manner. She tried not to flare at him, tried not to rage at him, and yet, she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to smack the shit out of him. Calmly she had asked him what he would do if someone called his mom a Dyke.
It stopped him in his tracks.
He had shut down on her, emotionally, and took him a while warm back up. They had talked about trying to respect other people.
Violet had watched the conversation, and did not interfere. Trin had gone from her coarse, growly tone to a warm, motherly speaking voice. She had been confused how Trin could do this, but she did it nonetheless.
Woofer sniffed the air as a sausage vendor came into smelling range, and she wound up the leash tight. Dogs were allowed in the open-air market and she made sure that he had done his business before they left.
She tapped at her breast and looked at him when he pounced up on her.
"Woofer want a snack?" She asked hopefully.
Woofer responded by licking her square on the lips.
She smiled happily and then lead him over to the small booth.
"Two sausages, one on a stick, one on a bun," she ordered.
He looked at her, and then at Woofer.
"He's on low-carb," she explained.
The guy taking the order looked at her and then as the joke set in, laughed. Woofer woofed.
Trin lathered hers in hot mustard, relish and onions, taking plenty of napkins and sat on a bench against a building. Before even unwrapping hers, she carefully tore his into very small pieces and set them in the napkin.
She had barely gotten two bites of hers down when he stuck his big Irish Setter nose on her lap.
"Oh come on," she said.
His soft brown eyes layered with the beautiful dark eyelashes blinked at her.
She chewed barely four inches away from his muzzle, slowly, teasingly.
He couldn't stand it, and licked at her face, his tongue hitting the mustard and a bit of chopped onion stuck to the side of her face.
The hot mustard hit his sinuses and he sneezed repeatedly and then looked at her coldly
"Serves you right, mutt," She said.
Happily she devoured the dog and sipped at a soda. She held the cup for him as he drank a twenty ounce cup of ice water sloppily, spattering her without care. She scratched his ears and told him he was a goofy mutt. He licked her on the face with the chilled tongue.
"Yuck. You brush your teeth as much as the teenager does."
Woofer woofed.
"Yeah, yeah. Com'on, let's go putter around."
Trin went from booth to booth in the market, and found all sorts of interesting items. Glass knick knacks, leather wallets, copper rings, silver necklaces with stone inlays. She bought some interesting polymer clay beads that caught her eye and some hand blown glass beads for Violet.
Beads had always been an interest to both of them, back when they all lived in Portland, Oregon, they would often drive to Long Beach, Washington and buy beads at the coastal shops.
Trin thought about this, and realized she missed the beach a lot. There was something wonderful about the cool, crisp ocean air. Already at ten-thirty, it was getting hot, and unpleasant. She wasn't looking forward to it, and had deliberately came early to try to get back about one or two.
Still the shiny beads caught her eye. Woofer, on the other paw was unamused.
He lay down on her feet as she poked through the white plastic trays and thumped his tail as the shop keeper scratched him on the ears.
Trin ended up plunking a good forty dollars down for them and was happy.
Woofer looked up at her as if to say, "it's about damn time."
Trin, of course had to stop a mere three booths down to look at the stickers, and quickly selected a small assortment, including two which were triangular with a bird motif in blue, black and white. Woofer tried to ignore her as much as possible as she looked at a doggie shirt that read, 'I'm proud of my gay mommy.'
Trin finally decided against it, and then circled the block to find the actual opening to the Pride gathering proper. It was in a long park, cordoned off. Donations were being accepted, and Trin dropped a fiver into the box as she walked past.
Woofer snuffled at passers-by, and was happy when Trin stopped for a burger. Without the spicy mustard, he managed to mooch a good half of it easy, and attempted to look contrite when she called him a 'greedy gut.'
Trin passed by and got her annual pride purchase, a set of rainbow rings. She had four sets so far, and had them around a BB chain that she work infrequently, with a dog tag that read, 'Trinity' in the middle. She thought for a moment, and got a set for Violet too. On impulse she got a key chain for James that said, "My mom's a Dyke. Bite me."
Trin's next stop was the Basic Rights Project, a group that she always liked seeing out at events. She got the usual bright blue and yellow sticker and made a donation. She passed by the local queer newsie, "The Lavender Network" and picked up the current copy. As she walked, she laughed out loud, reading her favorite stripe, 'Dykes to Watch out for'.
Past these was another food stop, a soda for her, and another water for him. She passed a button booth and bought a handful to stick on her bulletin board. One one lapel, she pinned a button that said, "Meandering to a Different Drummer." On the left she put, "I am in shape. ROUND is a shape." The rest she'd pin up in her office, although favored on in particular which read, "war is just terrorism with a bigger budget."
Trin ambled down along the group, seeing large displays from Hewlett Packard and other queer-friendly corporations, and also noticed the Log Cabin Republican booth was incredibly empty. They were across from the Libertarians and the two booth vendors would glare at each other as the crowds swarmed to the Lavender Donkey booth.
She took handouts from a variety of vendors, and stopped to peruse a women's book booth, acquiring a copy of Pat Califa's, "Macho Sluts". She had felt that Doc & Fluff wasn't really Califa's best work, and was hoping that even when she became Patrick Califa he would still produce good porn.
The selling girl piped up, "I gotta move, so I'm selling it all."
"Oh," Trin inquired, "where to?"
"Portland," she replied.
