I dialed him right back.I dialed him right back. "Listen you gutless faggot," I said when he answered, "why don't you take your anger out on whoever made you so hostile instead of dumping on other gay people? Go home and beat up the bullies in your school yard or your parents if they abused you. Take up martial arts training if you aren't able to do it now." "Fuck you," a snippy-sounding voice replied. "You can say 'fuck you' for the rest of the evening," I snapped back, "and it won't change the fact that you're no better than a straight bigot who makes obscene phone calls to gays. If you ever wonder what motivates them to go out of their way to hurt someone who hasn't done anything to them, you only have to look at yourself. Well, if it takes fear of the straights to keep some of you faggot snips civil, I'm letting you know that I'm just as capable as a straight guy of giving you a busted lip if you mouth off to me." I hung up with a bang. Of course the snip had to get revenge. With that kind of anger built up over years of being told by the society that he wasn't worth shit because he was gay, his only other choice was to direct it onto the straights but he didn't have the guts to do that. He contacted a straight reporter he knew on the local paper and the word also got back to a reporter for our local T.V. station, one who had already managed to get a gay judge thrown off the bench for a consensual relationship with a male hustler who was a bit less than two months short of being 18-even though sixteen is the age of consent in Minnesota. Kontar and I were having dinner in a restaurant when the snippy bitch queen showed up with the T.V. reporter, a cameraman and the newspaper reporter in tow. Kontar knocked the reporter and the cameraman clear across the restaurant with one blow of his powerful hand pads. I was glad to see that he controlled himself that much. If he had used much more force, we would have had two dead men on our hands. |