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My First Gay Bashing
Jun. 19th, 2005 02:55 amHamilton Pride, what a load of bull. Stepped outside the bar and some suburban kids in their black metal t-shirt uniform yell out hateful epitaphs. I flash them the peace symbol and they walk over. Perhaps too young but likely too drunk to understand that it means "peace". ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jgrizz is walking ahead and escorts me back to the bar. They stand in front of us at the parking lot and ask if we're "faggots, skinheads or commies". I tell them I'm a faggot and a commie. He's walking down the street with an open beer and throws some at me, it gets in my eye. I'm upset now. But I don't fight, I'm not that stupid. We tell them they're really impressing their girlfriend. Who is obviously embarrassed with their bigotry.
Happy Hamilton Pride. Luckily a nice lady named Annette helped us out. We waited for them to leave and walked to the car. No harm done. Just bruised egos. I never considered myself a target. I'm a bear or some shit. Really I'm just a sensitive hairy guy with a beard. But I know that, the masculine pretence is just a mating game.
Of course John and I could have dropped kicked those fucks into Tuesday. They wanted us to, though. I will likely see them around town at shows and so forth. At which point they will not remember because they're indulged little suburban brats. Who can afford to walk around downtown drunk on a Saturday night. Unaware of their privilege and convinced by their supposed alternative lifestyle that their opinions and naivety are somehow valid.
My opinion of punk rock kids sinks to an inconceivable new low. Tonight I dream of smashing heads.
jgrizz is walking ahead and escorts me back to the bar. They stand in front of us at the parking lot and ask if we're "faggots, skinheads or commies". I tell them I'm a faggot and a commie. He's walking down the street with an open beer and throws some at me, it gets in my eye. I'm upset now. But I don't fight, I'm not that stupid. We tell them they're really impressing their girlfriend. Who is obviously embarrassed with their bigotry. Happy Hamilton Pride. Luckily a nice lady named Annette helped us out. We waited for them to leave and walked to the car. No harm done. Just bruised egos. I never considered myself a target. I'm a bear or some shit. Really I'm just a sensitive hairy guy with a beard. But I know that, the masculine pretence is just a mating game.
Of course John and I could have dropped kicked those fucks into Tuesday. They wanted us to, though. I will likely see them around town at shows and so forth. At which point they will not remember because they're indulged little suburban brats. Who can afford to walk around downtown drunk on a Saturday night. Unaware of their privilege and convinced by their supposed alternative lifestyle that their opinions and naivety are somehow valid.
My opinion of punk rock kids sinks to an inconceivable new low. Tonight I dream of smashing heads.
