By New Times
By Connor Radnovich
By Robrt L. Pela and Amy Silverman
By Ray Stern
By Keegan Hamilton
By Matthew Hendley
By Monica Alonzo
By Monica Alonzo
The contest begins, and Pete has Lawson down. The throng chimes in with the inevitable Deliverance references. Much butt-slapping goes on. Pete executes an animated swanlike move straight from The Karate Kid with arms stretched outward, one leg up, and eyes wide. His mouth is caught in a perpetual grin, he yells, "C'mon, mutha fucka." The swarm roars.
Celia, the auctioneer, and fellow queen Barbra Saville are both dolled up like slutty cheerleaders. Lawson and Pete pull them into the gack.
Bodies slam into Jell-O and concrete and both Celia and Barbra lose their wigs. Jell-O rains down on the spectators. In the end, The Edge's pre-eminent DJ comes out on top. Lawson bows a graceful defeat.
Pistol Pete is offered up on the auction block and fetches nearly $300. The crowd chants, "Pete, Pete, Pete, Pete." A Truman Capote twin in a floppy Neiman Marcus hat with purple ribbons chirps, "Pete wants a 19-year-old with braces."
"I feel like Kunta Kinte," Pete says, laughing. "Just because you're purchasing me, it is not a guaranteed home run. You might get a peck on the cheek and a 'Thank you very much, it's been real, it's been nice.' Sometimes it couldn't be real nice, you just never know. It doesn't mean Pistol Pete is gonna be down on all fours at the end of the night with various Castle Boutique utensils in various orifices of my body."
And being an "outed" male DJ makes Pete an anomaly on Valley radio.
"If anybody treats me any differently, they don't matter," he says. "I have a new attitude: If they disapprove, they don't matter. And I don't mean that in a mean way. But I have just gotten to the point where I just have to come to terms with who you are and what you are all about. Besides the fact that this is a charity. The Edge is the only radio station with enough balls to support something like this."
KUPD radio recently dedicated an on-air spot to Pete, denouncing him for his sexual preferences.
"If people aren't gonna listen to myself or a radio station because they happen to be a certain persuasion, that's their choice. Thank God the radio is loaded up with as many choices as there are."
Later, as I walk home, three kids hurl rocks in my direction. I hear the words "fag" and "homo" as the stones drop around me. I just keep walking. I've got a good two miles to go, and it doesn't matter.