In light of a fresh onslaught of gay bashing reported in the media, I bring you the following:
I was having a lovely evening, having dinner with two of my favourite people – a gay couple I love and respect.
We used my car to get to and from the restaurant and I dropped them off on the street opposite their apartment which happened to be plonk in the middle of Church Street – aka ‘Gaytown,' Toronto
As they were crossing the street in front of my car, another car passed with four yahoos hanging from the windows.
“Faggots!” they screamed at my friends.
“Bum-fuckers!” they yelled.
The rest was unprintable.
My friends neither acknowledged them or even let on they had heard but carried on walking, holding hands, heading into their building.
I called them from my cell phone, I was so upset I was crying. These are good people, kind, caring, volunteering, tax-paying citizens. They’d take my previous dog on vacation with them when I went on my annual trip to Ireland. They’d bring photo albums back of her adventures while in the Maritimes. And she always arrived home with a new dog collar, usually loud pink, usually rhinestoned.
“My god!” I said to them, “Are you guys OK? Did you hear that? I’d like to kill those bastards!”
“Oh, relax,” said Jim, “It’s alright. It happens all the time. You get used to it.”
And what Jim said is what resonates with pain for me all these years later.
Added later:
sorry for the mixup on the comments section and thanks to everyone for reading and commenting!
