Can a Boring Old ‘G’ Still Hang with the LBTQIAs?

My first Pride parade was around the year 2000, when I was 15. My parents and I marched with PFLAG—Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays—a now quaint-sounding organization my folks joined after I came out, to help my mother accept the idea that her son would die of AIDS. 

I was hoping, of course, that I would meet some boy at the parade. Sadly, no suc…