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I saw a queer friend out at a bar last night. “Happy Pride Week!” she said. “Wait, it’s Pride?” asked her straight, male friend. “Again?” The weekend that turned into a week that turned into the better part of a month looms large in the cultural consciousness of D.C.’s heteros and homos alike. As far as parades go, it’s the biggest fish in the pond (sorry, Emancipation Day), and the glitter strewn down 17th Street NW doesn’t blow away until the next major storm. Events start in the last weeks of May and continue through the middle of June, splashing a rainbow veneer on all the things you would do in a normal month—run a 5k, take in a Nats game, ask AARP for elder-care info, get greased up for a leather party. Whether you’re a gay female Jew, a “queer for Christ,” or a would-be Habitat for Humanity volunteer, there’s a happy hour for you. Capital Pride gets simultaneously more diverse and more mainstream each year, making our multidenominational gay Christmas an ever-expanding excuse to celebrate.