Growing Up in a Vacuum

So there were two heartening developments in LGBTQ+ news yesterday. The first, of course, was the overwhelming community turnout in Peterborough to oppose the same dozen fascist dipshits that have been trying to disrupt drag queen storytimes or drag brunches all across Southern Ontario. Police estimated about three hundred people turned out to defend the venue, which is amazing. There was a similarly large turnout to counter hate yesterday in Coquitlam BC, opposing that province’s version of the Dimwit Dozen semi-pro bigotry team.

I’ve expressed my opinion of the bigots’ bullshit before: they’re not “protecting” anything, they’re just getting their jollies by being able to scream homophobic abuse in public without consequences. Honestly, though you’d think they’d start to get the point when every time the local community comes out en masse to protect these events while they have to drive for hours, pay for gas and rent hotel rooms just to make hateful fools of themselves again and again. The endorphin payoff has to be hitting the law of diminishing returns by now.

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What I Wish I’d Said

I have a lot of weird interactions when I’m out and about. I’m very well known among my friends for running into complete strangers who will give me advice, or confront me, or offer to sell me stuff or just generally tell me things. Once, I had a random stranger in a parking lot aggressively demand to know why I had a canoe lashed to the top of my car; he seemed quite put out when I told him that obviously, I was a bobsledder. I’ve had people complement me on my various pins, t-shirts, and jewellery, and then I turn around and had someone insult me for the very same thing. After the Pulse nightclub shooting I’d been making a point of wearing my Pride rings and an elderly lady in a grocery store asked me what they meant, then wept and called me a “brave boy” when I explained. I recently had an anti-masker charge at me screaming for wearing an N-95 in public.

And don’t get me started on all the weird shit that’s happened to me at various LCBOs across this province. The trick to dealing with the weirdness is to keep calm and, when necessary, deploy a caustic wit.

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