Just one time, I wish there would be more of us than there are of them. One of these days, there will be. And then things are going to be different.
Violently different.
I say this still angry from a few nights ago, when I was attacked by a couple of thugs at a doughnut shop because my appearance offended their sensibilities. The attack was sudden and quick and culminated in a short car chase that ended when I eluded them.
I was savagely angry driving home that night, though my roommate, who was with me, found the situation funny. And in once sense, it was hilarious. That these cretins could get so enraged by the mere sight of someone who looks different from them is plainly silly. That they would put themselves into a violent situation that could have resulted in serious injury or death, simply because they didn't like the look of someone else is just stupid. As my roommate pointed out, we didn't get hurt, and a few idiots got worked up over nothing. They probably got indigestion that kept them up all night.
And if I step back from the situation, I can see his point and laugh a bit. But my roommate's normal looking, and he's not the one whose appearance in the doughnut shop elicited the barked comment, "Well, Goddamn! That faggot's ruined my fucking appetite!"
But I've heard comments like those and run into idiots like them too many times to laugh it off. I'm sick of having to carry mace wherever I go just so I can feel safe from people who don't like the way I dress. I shouldn't have to. But because I choose not to wear boot-cut jeans, a 10-pound belt buckle and a flannel shirt, I offend homophobes.
The funny part is, though I often end up in gay bashing incidents like the one the other night, I'm not even gay! Sure, my mom has taken a look at the velvet tights and the dog collar I've been known to wear and asked me if I was a few times, and I admit most guys think I am.
But that's just wishful thinking, I'm sure.
I knew as soon as I pulled into the parking lot of the doughnut shop and saw those macho boys inside that there was going to be trouble. Part of me wanted to just turn around and leave, but I refused to do that. In America, whether in fact, we should be able to go wherever we want whenever we want, no matter what we look like or whose company we are in.
I tried to be as non-threatening as possible, which in retrospect makes me feel like I acted with cowardice. I deliberately didn't look at the macho thugs as I entered the store, even though I could feel their glares following me and the velvet leggings and fishnet shirt I wore. Even when they began making gay jokes I didn't acknowledge their existence. I merely paid for my food, waited for my roommate to get his and left.
When we reached the car, I chose not to go to his side to unlock the door, even though that is something I do for everyone who rides with me, male or female, date or friend. I figured the thugs would misinterpret my simple politeness, and I could already feel the violence building in the air. In fact, by the time my roommate and I reached the car, the thugs had left their table and moved to the window to watch us.
And oh, yeah. They were flipping us off. Somehow I doubt the irony ever soaked through their skulls.
I'm sure that if I had opened the door for Chip the thugs would have come out of the building earlier than they did, thus catching us out of the car and unprotected. I almost wish they had. But I'm certainly not Chuck Norris, and my roommate is a lawyer, not a fighter. And so I got in the car and then unlocked Chip's door. He already had his seatbelt on before the thugs suddenly decided to charge us.
I threw the car in reverse and then burned more rubber than a Ford Tempo has the right to and took off. The jerks tried to follow, but we had lost them within a few blocks. But while they were out of sight, they have never left my mind. But no matter how much I ponder their attitudes, I just can't understand these thugs. All I do is get mad thinking about it.
Incidents like these prove to me just how much work America has to do to erase intolerance. The idiots who attacked me were too stupid and too fearful even to get their facts straight (or their fags straight) before they decided to beat me up. They blindly acted on their own fears and angers, and they ended up attacking two heterosexuals.
And that shows too that the fight against homophobes isn't just that of gays and lesbians. Similarly, the fight against racism isn't just a black or a white issue, and the fight against sexism isn't a female issue. Whether directly or indirectly, intolerance hurts us all.
There have been times when I haven't gotten away as cleanly as I did the other night. I'm living proof that gay bashing hurts straight people too. And I don't just mean physically. Anytime idiots attack someone they perceive is gay or cracks homophobic jokes, they demean not only themselves, but all straight people and for that matter, humans beings in general.
The other night I spent half the night fuming and wishing that a few of my muscular friends had been with me to confront those thugs. Just once I'd like to be able to unleash my rage and my pain on the packs of thugs who normally outnumber me. But as I take time to cool off, I realize that you can't beat sense into an idiot, no matter how big a club you use.
You only demean yourself.
And so we'll have to settle for education. It's the slow way, but it seems like there are more open-minded people today than there were yesterday, and more yesterday than there were five years ago, and more then than there were in 1900. Maybe one of these days there really will be more of us than there are of them. And then things will be different.
Placidly different.
Todd Foltz has long hair and wears a lot of leather, just like the guys described in this column.