I took a day trip down to Bellingham/Burlington, Washington yesterday and would like to share the experience with you. The story begins on Friday night, when after a nice long day at work my friend Muffty and I went out for Double-Fisted Fridays at Vera's on Davie. 2 'pints' for $6. You really can't go wrong. We stay there for a couple of rounds and decided that we would have to go the gay bar.
Now we had done Celebrities on Tuesday night, their 'straight' night, $5 cover and $3 drinks. The scene, really wasn't me, very clubby, too straight. On Davie (Vancity's 'village') there is the Pumpjack, the 'leather' bar, Celebrities, Oasis, 1181 (both loungey), Numbers and Odyssey. Numbers is a smaller place, and tends to draw an older crowd, from what I have seen so it was off to Odyssey. The place is perfect. Big and open but not too big, not too fancy, but nice. It was also packed on Friday night.
Now after a good hour of dancing they called last call (3 a.m. in Van) and we kept on dancing. Haven't had a good dance in a long time. A boy leans in out of nowhere and yells, "You're an awesome dancer!" Now I have a weakness for flattery, so I chatted with this boy who was tall and slim, but athletic. When he told me he was from Washington state, his rating got a little higher. When he started talking about what he was doing in school (pyshc/public health) it went up even further.
He and his friend and Muffty and I stood outside the club afterwards idly talking for far too long and he mentioned that his hometown pride was on Sunday and that if I had the chance I should come down. I happened to have Sunday off so I decided late Saturday night I would go.
Sunday MorningThings started to look ify, when my bus left 5 minutes early. Having run to busses mere minutes before their departure, I was shocked by the bus driver's disregard for schedules.
We get to the border and border guard was a complete bitch. Now after some contemplation, I realized that no, she wasn't a bitch, but the training program that she had gone through had turned her into one. The questions, the responses. "Its a privilege to come into this country." I felt like saying "that remains to be seen." I understand, I do that, as she pointed out, the border is serious matter. But getting a passport is not easy, and they make it hard for a reason, so that people who are allowed to travel can, with ease. I would not classify that experience as easy. Its safe to say that when I go to Seattle it will be via ferry and hope that the experience is more pleasant.
We roll into Bellingham, and find that my phone doesn't work (stupid Telus, its 20 minutes from the border!). Not only that but my quarters don't work in the pay phones!!! The nice girl in the coffee shop let me borrow her phone to call the boy. An hour later he comes and picks me up. Fine. Traveling is not always easy, I know, so moving on.
American EyesWe get to pride festival and its small. Thats cool. Its a small town. According to the boy, its the biggest pride yet, they are making leaps and bounds. He goes off to talk to a very good looking boy, man actually, but he's short and dresses young. After he decided to introduce me, I cannot help but notice his intense eyes. They are open extra wide, listening intently to all that is going on. The boy, here after known as TW, had the same expression the Friday night. TW goes on to tell me, just barely out of earshot of the man, that he has just come out of a 3 year relationship and he is concerned that he will start drinking again and he is trying to council him into GayAA.
My problem with AA or at least how they (seem) to treat AA in the US is that they breed and addict culture. Automatically you are an alcoholic, you are broken , you need to be fixed. I am an advocate of moderation, and while I understand some people can't be moderate, AA (seems) to claim that there is no such thing as moderate. "Its been ____ since my last drink." TW was proud of the fact that he had 'never finished a drink in his life.' Good for you, I've finished many and I'm doing fine thank you very much. 'Because I'm an athlete' he'd follow up. Oh yeah, Western's Champion Rugby
teams gets blasted all the time, you wanna tell them they're bad athletes?
Anyways, the man was going through a rough time in his life, and I just couldn't imagine AA making things better. His eyes screamed of the pain he was feeling, his face was the happy facade. TW's eyes may not have been screaming pain, but they were screaming nonetheless.
PoliticsTW pushed his politics every instance that he could. He was the type of person who refused to accept silence. For what reason I don't know, but even when he wasn't repeating himself he would fall into these fits of uncomfortable, annoying, gasp-y, laughter, that after an hour was noticeable, and after a day unbearable. He was also... a man-hater. There has got to be a term for it, and I will ask around.
We got in an argument over the use of the word 'bitch', followed by an argument over the use of the word fag. While I held fast that they were just words and that the word only had power when people chose to give it to them, he countered that the words were violent. "Kids kill themselves over it." he clamored. "Yeah but I didn't, and you didn't." I countered. Somehow, I don't know how, but I didn't question it, I managed to play my 'multiple minority' card and had him feeling bad about his privileged position in society.
The one good thing, I think, that I took away from my ordeal with TW was confronting my qwerty (queer-it-y, the way I say it). He made me think about the people who have come before me, who did have to deal with violent homophobia. And while I recognize that the struggle must continue, I don't see it as a battle to be won in on daily basis. "Ignorance will persist," I said to him, "and strength in built through adversity." Yes Faggot is a hateful word, but as minority, we are going to be called it. The answer is not to go on a rampage and start a war on language, the way I see it, it is to stop and think, am I going to give that word the power is seeks, or am I am going to confront the truth of the statement and seek the deeper reason for the hate. Hate is usually based on ignorance, so reasoning with ignorance is like trying to mix oil and water.
TW not only had an interview this morning for a job he presumed he was going to get, but knew that my bus was at 9:15 this morning and still didn't get out of bed until 8:20, took a 30 minute shower and got me there with like 5 minutes to spare. I think its safe to say that that was my first and last trip to Bellingham Washington. If I run into TW again, I will be cordial and friendly, but *shudder*, I kind of hope that that was the end of my all American Experience.
P.S. Crossed the border twice with drugs. Tax dollars hard at work.
My one saving grace, the beach. Me and Shawn went to Sunset Beach yesterday and had a few beers before he went get this chest waxed and I went to work. We sat there just enjoying the sun the breeze, the mountains. I said to him, "I can really see myself living out here." I really could.
