
We sat and waited, while an endless stream of opposite sex couples passed us, approached the clerk's window, and received their marriage licenses within a matter of minutes. After an hour of waiting for Judge Walker's decision, we'd watched about four or five opposite sex couples be whisked off into a private room by a justice of the peace and emerge less than ten minutes later happily married. The clerks were kind and supportive of us as we waited, constantly pushing refresh on our smart phone's Google search "Judge Walker Stay." County workers hopped on and off the elevators across the waiting area, smiling and giving us thumbs up, hoping for the best.
More same sex couples arrived, each hoping to have their unions recognized by the state as marriages, hoping to have their loving commitments affirmed and backed up by the law. The news media arrived. First just a few stations, then the newspapers and more networks all wanting interviews. SHE and I were dressed in khaki shorts and matching pink t-shirts. We hadn't thought ahead about the possibility of being on the news when we were getting dressed. We just wanted to get a marriage license so we could be married. Now, I was wishing I had on a tie or at least a button down shirt and a nice pair of jeans, thankfully I'd taken the time to shave and trim my nose hair. (Having been on the road for the past month, the trim was much needed.)
The news interviews began in full force. ABC, CBS, NPR, LA Times, LA Weekly, NBC, LGBT POV, KMX 1070, etc. FOX was absent.
The questions were similar: "Why now?" "First in line, you must really want to get married?" "Why not wait until you can have a large wedding with family and friends?" "Why not wait until you are sure that your marriage won't be declared invalid by a higher court?" "What does marriage mean to you?" Etc.
Our answers followed: "We don't want to miss a window, if there is to be one." "Time is not a luxury. If the opportunity to be married arises, we're going to take it before the other side has a chance to take it away again." "We're getting married because that's what two people who love each other do." Etc.
More same sex couples arrived, sat on the bench or leaned against walls, eyes fixed to their Google searches, hoping for the chance to be married. More opposite sex couples arrived, walked up to the windows, got their marriage licenses, and left to be married.
As tensions mounted in the same sex couples, news reporters, and courthouse staff, adrenaline pumped through my body, the physical manifestation of my emotions, my hope for the chance to marry the man that I love. The small waiting area overflowed with same sex couples as opposite sex couples navigated the crowd to get their licenses.
11:00. Nothing. 11:15. Nothing. 11:45. Still nothing. 11:55. Nada. 12:00. I felt like I was going to vomit. 12:01. Still no news on the internet. 12:03. Couples squeezed into the waiting space, wall to wall. 12:05. News reporters asked us if we'd heard anything yet. 12:10. The courthouse staff apologized that they had no information yet. Then the news: on the cell phone of couple dressed in white named Tim and Floyd, Logo News reported that Judge Walker had denied the stay.
The room erupted in cheers. Couples embraced one another and then split to hug the strangers next to them. The news reporters' cameras flashed, pressed against the windows from outside. We lined up, ready to join into the succession of opposite sex couples that had been receiving their marriage licenses. SHE and I were first in line. Smiles. Tears. Exhales. EQUALITY! This was the moment we'd been waiting for since November 2008. More news reports flashed on smart phone screens informing us that Judge Walker had denied the stay.

Shoulders dropped. Tears fell. Couples embraced. We all stood. Depleted. Motionless. At a loss.
Then, one of the clerks asked all of us to move to the back of the waiting room, so that the opposite sex couples could come to the front of the line to receive their marriage licenses. We surrendered our spots in line.
Same sex couples trickled out, quietly. Reporters asked for reactions, comments. More TV cameras, flashes, confusion, anger, loss, sadness...
Opposite sex couples trickled in, some in tuxedos and white dresses.
SHE and I were the first couple to arrive and we were the last to leave. We arrived with hopes of equality. We left those hopes still in tact, but hit once again in the gut with the reality that we are still second class citizens.
SHE and I at the Beverly Hills Municipal Court awaiting the announcement.