Waving From a Distance

This past weekend was the Gay Pride Parade in Chicago. I was in it, hanging on the side of the National Organization of Women's float. I didn't take off my shirt or grind to the booming techno coming from the float behind us, apparently the vehicle for a gay swim team? I base this on the fact that they were all bare-chested and in skimpy shorts, but that describes about half of the parade participants anyway.
I was terribly hungover and expecting a bad or at least awkward time, but it was great. All I did was wave at people, picking a face in the crowd to focus on every couple feet, and everyone responded. Usually flirtatiously, which felt really fucking great. It was weird getting back down on the ground with the crowd when our float was done. I couldn't indiscriminately flirt anymore, the confidence was gone. It is different when you have to follow a wave with a conversation, the reality sets in that maybe I don't have anything to say to them. They've got nothing for me either, and back on the ground I see the complications you can ignore from above. Obviously I am still the same cynical and single person I was before the weekend began, but when it gets bad I will try to remember how the possibilities seemed to sparkle, when I was waving from a distance.