Castro Characters

The trio walks down Church Street, headed towards the Castro. Holding candles cradled by blue plastic cups, they seem to be headed for the taping of “Milk.” Such colorful spirits would never otherwise be draped in black on a Friday night.

As they make their way down the street, the women dance to the disco tracks of their minds while the man strolls contentedly. When they hit the Castro, however, his stroll morphs into a sashay. He seems to be channeling an 18th century woman in a bustier and heels as he daintily maneuvers the streets. His walk is far more intricate than the dance moves of the girls, who have transformed from commanding sexual presences into the gay man’s ultimate accessory.

As they continue their journey, his movements become more exaggerated. His hands fly through the neon-lit sky with style and intention. A tight-shirted passerby glances over as the man tells a story that is obviously meant to seem both ground-breaking and hilarious. The man speaking is so enamored with the appearance of hilarity that he fails to notice the tight shirt’s subtle gaze until his blonde friend whispers nonchalantly into his ear. His cool blown, he looks up just in time to smile as they pass each other.

In the meantime, the brunette woman asks yet another group of men for a cigarette. She’s been trying for the past ten minutes, but to no avail. The Castro is probably the worst place in the city for her to ask random men for nicotine gratification.

As they reach the heart of the district, the group notices a place where they’d like to eat. While he sashays sexily, she sulks—cigaretteless—into the Sausage Factory.