Then we looked at each other, and there was a kind of understanding between us, as if we were seeing the same thing at the same moment, and it was a little surprising to both of us. I saw her mouth open slightly as if she was about to speak, but then behind her the door of the corner store opened and Lisa and Mel came out, carrying their purchases in brown paper bags.

Steph and I turned away from each other and toward Lisa and Mel. I was glad I’d taken the picture of the poster, because later I knew it would bring me back to this moment.

—

We walked down the broad, palm-tree-shaded sidewalks of Dolores Street toward the park. The rhythmic thump of dance music floated through the air. When 17th Street came into view, I saw dozens of motorcycles lined up all in a row. Leaning against or sitting astride them were women in leather chaps, in pink feather boas, in bikini tops.

Mel must have seen the surprise on my face because she explained, “Dykes on Bikes. They start the march.”

Across the street was a row of tennis courts, and then a bank of porta potties, and beyond them, Dolores Park rose up a big hill that was completely covered with people. I had never seen a crowd like this before, with women of all ages and races and sizes, wearing all kinds of outfits in every color, from head-to-toe rainbow gear to jeans and T-shirts, many with tattoos up and down arms and legs and upper backs exposed to the sun. I was sure now that my outfit was exceptionally straight.

Up ahead, a crowd was gathering at a little plaza where steps led into the park. Everyone was watching an Asian couple standing together on the steps. One woman was wearing a black satin corset and pink ruffled hot pants, fishnets and shiny Doc Martens. The other woman’s outfit could not compare; it was just shorts and a button-down shirt, but she did have on a fun newsboy cap. Now she knelt down on one knee and reached in her pocket, and although I couldn’t see what she was holding up, the gasp from everyone watching made it obvious that it was a ring. The woman must have accepted the proposal, because now the kneeling girl got up and they were kissing, and the entire circle gathered around them was cheering.

“That’s so sweet,” Lisa said. She was clinging to Steph’s arm, and Steph leaned in and kissed her. She was tender, gentle.

I looked away, toward Mel, who was texting on her phone and paying no attention to the proposal or Steph and Lisa.

“Finally!” Mel said. “Roxy’s on the hill behind the playground. Come on.”

—