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Yesterday I marched in the gay pride parade in NYC, what a blast that was! I felt so sexy all day dressed in a short dress, complete with garter and pink undies, strutting my stuff all over the streets of Manhattan. “Work it girl” and “fabulous” was all I heard all day, and each time it made me beam with pleasure and pride.
Unfortunately, as I was walking home from the night of dancing and fun, I walked by two thirty something white men standing outside a storefront. As if I could smell their chauvinism, I puffed up mychest and accentuated my strut, filled with the pride of the day. One of them called out, “put on some pants.” I turned as I strode past them, giving the guy my middle finger in the most vulgar fashion I could while I met his gaze straight on. After working his jaw a few times he came up with a smugly comeback to my ‘fuck you’ – “You wish you could,” he said.
There are only a few times when I remember my brain actually feeling like it was about to boil over, and this was one of them. I was so angry I think I would have fought him if he had dared. I stopped walking and turned my entire body about face to him and said, in my deep, natural voice, “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to do, fuck you in your bigoted ass. Yeah, I want to fuck you in your BIGOTED ass.” I continued to stare at him for a few moments. It seemed that he was deciding whether to come after me. I’m not sure why he didn’t – perhaps he could sense how angry I was, or maybe he had just then realized that smear the queer wouldn’t quite work with me since I was definitely bigger than he was. It also probably helped that there were two other people near us on the sidewalk, one woman who nodded her head at me in support and another woman who scurried by, obviously freaked out by the entire situation.
I left the scene with my emotions still flaring, and wondering if I had done the right thing. I hope I gave him something to think about, being called a bigot to his face. That word was so powerful comingout my lips – the powerful truth, more powerful than any fist I think.
I had a second, less dramatic experience later that same night. Walking by the the south end of Tompkins Square park, a straight couple walked passed me. I heard the man hiss something like “fucking fags” as they walked by. “Shut up!” his girlfriend immediately said, in a tone of moral reprehension. Thank you sister, whoever you are, and I hope you let your boyfriend know that if he can’t bear the site of a fag then isn’t gonna be seeing you anymore either.
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