The annual West Indian American Day Parade is a huge event in Brooklyn, where I live, and, looking at the photos of all the colorful revelry, I'm sad I missed it. Instead I spent some time with my dear friend in Atlanta, where, at Opera on Sunday night, I had the distinctly interesting experience of standing in close proximity to the (not very tall) person I had written my weekly open letter to the day before. Had I been in a normal state of mind (i.e. had the Grey Goose not had your girl feeling a little too loose for a serious conversation about gender/racial politics), I might have introduced myself and sent Polow here. As it was, he was surrounded by a bevy of women, black ones, believe it or not, who had apparently been deemed submissive enough to share his company.

Also seen (by me) at Opera: A bunch of ATL regulars, Ludacris, and Ne-Yo, who developed an undeniably sour expression on his face when the DJ played a Bobby Valentino song right after his. Could he still be annoyed about this?

After the jump check out more pretty pictures from Labor Day in Brooklyn, since I didn't have a camera to record my Labor Day in ATL. Hope you had a great three-day weekend, too!