Wednesday, Jul. 17, 2002 - 12:46 p.m.
Again

Writing last night’s entry got me so riled up that I went out for a walk immediately afterwards, hoping the stars might be aligned such that some fun might easily be found. They were. It was. Even before I got to the cruisey spot, I met up with a luscious young black guy on the street and brought him back to my place. Two long-held fantasies were fulfilled: I got to play with my first set of dreadlocks and my first set of six-pack abs. Yowsa!

I couldn’t wait to write about what happened. Aside from the lusciousness, it was one of those strange, even sad encounters that fires my imagination.

But no. That story will have to wait for another day.

Because this morning I learned that there was another brutal—but not, thankfully, fatal—gay-bashing here in town. Not only that, but the attack happened early Saturday morning, when and very near where I was out on my prowl.

News reports are still sketchy, but here’s what is known so far. A 28-year old gay man was stopped on the street—downtown, on the outside edge of the gay ghetto—by two young guys in a vehicle. They asked him for directions, and before he could answer they sprayed some noxious substance in his face. He fell to the ground, and they proceeded to beat the fucking shit out of him, all the while yelling homophobic epithets. Some news reports say that the men pulled a knife on him too. In any event, the cops were either called or happened upon the scene at that point and the two assailants were arrested.

The bashers—aged 23 and 24—were U.S. Navy sailors, in town on shore leave. They were held in custody until this morning, when they were released without being charged and are now on their way home. The police wanted to press charges but I guess their military status makes it some sort of “international incident”; their Commanding Officer in the States has promised local authorities that the sailors would be returned to Canada for a court date later.

And that’s what I know. Fuck.

Here we go again. It could have been me. I’ve stayed away from the cruisey park since last fall’s murder, and Friday night was my first venture out anywhere into the City of Night. And now this. The gay guy who was attacked was barely even inside the ghetto; maybe he was walking kind of femmy, or had the wrong kind of piercing, or was wearing a t-shirt with some radical queer slogan on it.

The argument—and I hear it from queers as well as straight folks—that it’s foolish to cruise for sex because of the risk of gay-bashing must now be extended: I guess we homos also get what we deserve, responding to a request for directions.

Schoolyard bullies help create gay ghettos. Then we grow up, and so do they. And they know where to find us. It’s not safe within or without. We are not safe.

I am angry.