Tuesday, August 21, 2007

If it ain't fittin, it just ain't fittin!

So there I was. Minding my own business and I was verbally assaulted. I had gone out roller blading and as I passed an on-coming truck, I was called queer! I couldn’t believe it. My delicate little ears died a little that day. It’s not like I was in my shorty shorts or anything. I had on longer type shorts and a t-shirt. Not even a tank top. But a t-shirt even.

If I had been wearing hot pants and was sans shirt, my perfectly chiseled body glistening with perspiration as I whisked along Lakeside Drive, then I would understand. But this was rude and uncalled for!

As far as I remember there wasn’t even a particularly gay song on my iPod. Even if there was, they wouldn’t have been able to hear it! I know I was going up hill so I couldn’t even have been doing a little jig or anything.

I find some comfort in the fact that the person is as dumb as they are ignorant. After tossing the insult out the window, they pulled into a building parking lot. As I went on my merry (Mary?) way, I thought about what a coward he must be to say that and then skulk off to the protection of underground parking. Although underground is clearly where this type of critter is most at home.

You can well imagine my surprise then, when on my return trip, I saw the offender’s vehicle in the guest parking lot. Instantly my mind went to going home and writing a note to place on the windshield. It was going to go something like:

“Dear Dumb-Ass, if you are ignorant enough to call someone queer, at least be smart enough not to park your car in a public space where they can find it. Even a fag knows how to use a tire iron to loosen lug nuts and cut brake cables. Have a nice drive. PS – it takes one to know one.”

In such situations however, it is best to write the note, get it out of your system and move on. There is enough negative energy in the world as it is. I toyed with the idea of at least getting the license plate number and reporting him, but upon my return to the scene of the crime, dumb-ass and his truck were both gone.

It will take time for this wound to heal. Luckily, I have my knitting and quilt making to keep me busy.

4 Comments:

Blogger Lance Morrison said...

Maybe it was the cosmopolitan you were drinking that made him call you 'Queer'? Only a queer would be drinking a pink martini while blading.
Or maybe he overheard you saying, 'Heyyyyy" to one of your friends as you bladed by?
Or maybe he's just an ignorant dumbass?

8:51 PM  
Anonymous Alberta Boy/Cell Phone Boy/Embryo said...

to be honest, i've heard you sing the Planet Unicorn song on more then on occasion (and in public of all places) so you can hardly fault them

they were just doing their duty in ensuring that everyone within earshot knew how you were oriented , sexually that is, something we all have a duty to do ... i can't tell you how many times i shout "BREEDER" on my walk home from work

9:29 PM  
Blogger Blair said...

It's interesting isn't it? I've certainly never encountered anything like that while strolling down town, but I too have encountered name calling in the suburbs. We live on an island of tolerance that isn't as large as we'd all like to think...

Um...was he hot? :)

10:17 AM  
Blogger Robert Mitchell L.L. said...

it wasn't a cosmo, it was a white lady, because I am lady you see! I like doing ladies things like pressing flowers, reading poetry and shit....

CPB - ooooooo, it is like invasion of the body snatchers. You show any sign of sexual orientation and they have to point and scream....good thinking....

kitkat...Islands in a stream, that is what we are......

5:33 PM  

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