Intolerance Will NOT Be Tolerated!

Today I strike a more serious tone with this blog, relating to the events of last night. Now, as is well know throughout, I am not only gay but perfectly happy being gay and more than comfortable with the fact that some people are made uncomfortable by that. Honestly, that is fine. Should someone have a problem with gays, I am not going to give them any shit as that is probably the way they were raised and in the long run it can be said that it isn't their fault. Rather, I feel a policy of tolerance is what needs to be not only implemented but accepted and rendered universal. What I mean to say is that we all tolerate Bush, despite the fact that he is a dumbass. I tolerate people with religious viewpoints because they are their own viewpoints, and while I may not agree I am certainly not that person, thus I have no right to their views. Hell, I'd even go as far as to say that I tolerate abortion, because despite my own personal opposal to it, I am not ever going to force my own moral values on another. So why, then, am I not tolerated?

On my way to West Kensington last night I was waiting patiently in the tube stop, awaiting the much-delayed arrival of the district line, minding my own business, reading Specimen Days by Michael Cunningham (a gay author not only tolerated but given innumerable accolades). A group of three obviously drunk brits had been standing in front of me for a good five minutes before one of two girls sat next to me on the bench, asking "Do you want a girlfriend?" Now, anyone that knows me knows that I love randomness and immediately thought this would be a good time to cement myself in their minds as the sassy guy in the tube stop by giving her a witty retort. "I bet my slew of former boyfriends would find that amusing," I quipped, and with that the male counterpart to said woman attacks, beginning to call me fag, queer, and saying that homos are the reason God something something blah blah. At this point, shaking with rage, I merely stood up, put my face in his and said, "Yep, fag, homo, queer, fudgepacker, backdoor bandit, whatever else you want to call me," as well as littler things like "How fucking dare you, you ignorant son of a bitch," and things of that nature. Right as I was about to punch the guy, a fellow tube user noticed the scuffle and came over and told the other guy off, asking what right he had to be so intolerant and judgemental. This person is my new hero, and though I will probably never know his name or meet him again, he kept me from killing this guy, and for that I am very grateful.

After the much needed intervention, the three brits walked to the other side of the platform, continuing to shoot me sideways looks until the train came. I continued my journey and they, theirs. It's hard to say, really, how something like this can happen. It has never happened to me and it is pretty rare that I hear of it happening to my friends. Of course, ignorance still abounds no matter how "progressive" a society we think we are living in. There is always that one person. Maybe this was just my "gay right of initiation," my passing of the final test. Not only was I harassed, but instead of cowering I stood up for myself. I have never been very "gay pride" or even the least bit sentimental about stuff like that, but last night certainly changed that a bit, not because I feel closer to the gay community because I, too, was a victim, but because people like that man exist. Because they exist, others must struggle to change their mind, to teach them that they are not expected ever to condone, because I ask that of no one, not even my own parents who are devout catholics, but are certainly expected to tolerate. In return, I will tolerate their views and we never have to speak again. I guess the moral is "believe what you want, but don't ever fucking tell me what to believe." How very Hans Christian Andersson.