Dispatches from the Desert of the Real #1: The bus.

All right this isn't my normal comicbook ramblings and ravings and for that I apologize, but I had to get his out somewhere before memory fades and I lose all track of yet another instance in life that struck me surreal as all hell.

See, my life has these moments. Not good moments per se, nor even bad, but what they can be called is weird. Really, really weird. And today certainly qualifies as one of the stranger ones I've had in a while. Let me set the scene for you.

I work night shifts at an office in the downtown core. Parking underground costs money I do not wish to spend, and parking on the street just gets me paranoid so I've settled on the compromise of public transit. After I shower, dress, and grab a snack I take up my Bag of Holding, slip the iPod on and head down to the corner bus stop to catch my ride to work. A simple enough routine, though sometimes complicated by the usual vagaries of public transportation. Today was a bit different however, as I'd lent my iPod to my brother on Friday for his night shift job so he could listen to some tunes and podcasts, and I hadn't yet called to collect it. I was just going to hop the bus and ride, maybe read one of my Marvel Comics Essentials trades on the way to work, so I didn't think anything of it.

I get to the corner stop and begin to wait, a few other folk milling about next to the glass enclosure on the corner. As I do a young woman ambles up towards me, conversing on a cell phone. Now please understand, I am no eavesdropper. It's never my intent to listen in on someone's conversation. For the most part I was drifting along in my day to day haze of thought, thinking about how cool a Michael Jai White/Tony Jaa Power Man & Iron Fist movie would be and who the villain would be, when gradually the conversation began to impose itself on my thought processes. This woman was not speaking at a private, semi-murmur 'I'm-in-a-public-place-and-am-talking-about-private-stuff' tone. She was at her normal speaking voice, which carried quite well.

Over the course of (her side) of the conversation I learned that her friend Mary was in jail. Apparently there'd been a bit of a fracas with the local constabulary and 'the crazy bitch' was now locked up in jail. Frankly she'd seen the writing on the wall for some time, as Mary had her issues with certain controlled substances and a boyfriend that was, apparently 'a total psycho'. Details of the arrest (learned second-hand from a friend of a friend) were discussed, as well as the possibility of her being out on bail. All this said without a trace of self-consciousness, not even a casual look over the shoulder to see if anyone might be listening in. My eyes remained locked up the street for some sign of the bus, which gradually approached. I got on board and prepared for a quieter ride, as surely the confines of the bus would have her speak at a reduced volume.

Apparently not.

As the bus ride began the topic began to gradually shift to another topic, one in which the young lady and her friend began to discuss something. . .else. It took my sleep-addled brain a few moments to process the babble, but gradually it became clear.

". . .well how long does he usually last. . .?" a giggle.

". . .it must be because you're tight."

For a moment my brain had nothing. Then the little troll that handles my perversion got back from his coffee break and connected the dots for me. Oh shit. There's no way. There's no way they're talking about--

'. . .you're on birth control right? At least tell me you're on birth control."

--yep, they're talking about sex all right. Sex. On a public bus. Right across the aisle from me. With all the Nimoyian stamina I can muster from my tired frame I somehow manage to lock my facial features into a neutral expression.

". . .well the pill, the pill's okay but it makes you fat. I swear. I seen a couple of my friends take it and they kinda ballooned. Me, I'm on the patch. It's making me thinner and my boobs bigger. . .yeah, my boobs are huge now."

I thank JesusAllahBuddha that I decided not to crack open the Red Bull in my bag, for I most assuredly would have done a spit-take all over the back of the head of the sweet-looking older woman sitting in front of me. Again, this woman is making no effort to conceal her conversation. As far as she's concerned, the contents of this phone call are as safe and secure as that of a church confessional, as though some bubble of inaudibility is trailing her and ensuring that none of us can hear her speaking at a normal tone of volume within a confined space.

". . .hm? Oh, about a 34C now. Getting bigger too. What's the bra size after C?"

I am dying. I am literally dying. I run a hand along my mouth, desperately trying to hold on. I share a glimpse with a woman sitting across the aisle from me and we both exchange a single telepathic message of 'What. The. Fuck?' I'm torn between my desire for decorum and my morbid curiosity to see just how far this can go.

". . .dude, dude, you totally need to look after that shit. You can't be having a kid that has like sixteen years between you. You need it to be like eighteen, twenty, maybe thirty years. . .dude I'm 19." that last said with the conviction of a veteran of a thousand psychic wars.

I sit there, gobsmacked, shaking my head a little as the bus comes to a stop. She rises, and walks out the door, continuing to hold court with her friend and talking up the street as she walks on and the bus pulls away from the curb. For a brief moment in time I looked through a window into an entirely different world, one that is as alien to my way of thinking as the sands of Tatooine or Barsoom. It was amazing, it was astounding, and most of all it was goddamnned weird.

This is my life. God but I love it so.

Stac

No more.

Two Women Assaulted at Ontario School

I'm not a polticial guy. By and large my idea of the Big Issues tend to revolve around whether who would win in a fight between Superman and Captain Marvel. But the above has shaken me out of my complacency and I'd be remiss if I didn't at least talk about how this news made me feel. Much of this will doubtless sound monumentally naive and simple, but I want to get this out of my system so in the future I can just point to it for my opinion on the subject.

I'm a Canadian, and a proud one at that. I love my country and truly think we've got the best of all possible worlds in this great land. I've always had this image of Canada as having its problems to be sure, but still being a land of decent people where we embraced the diverse and built upon that selfsame diversity for a better tomorrow. Nations, spiritual beliefs, gender, sexuality. . .none of that mattered in the Canada of my idealized vision. Needless to say reading of the above assault, hearing of a similar attack in British Columbia has done a lot to--if not shatter--than at least to smudge that rose-colored view a great deal.

I'm not gay. I say that not as a defense mechanism, merely as a statement of truth. I can't imagine what it must be like to live in a world where I have to face intolerance for being who I am and wanting to be with the people I care deeply for. With the passing of Proposition 8 in the United States, the simple act of recognizing a same-sex couple legally as a loving pair joined in matrimony has been rejected. And most of all, I can't concieve of a world where something as simple as picking your kid up from school could become the basis of a savage, unreasoning attack for no other reason than one of these women may have spoken to the child of this creature that poses as a human being.

Why? Seriously, why is this such a big deal? What is it that's so wrong about people being with people that they love? It makes no sense. They're not trying to force their beliefs on anyone, they're not trying to make you gay. No. All they were doing was living their lives, and for that unforgivable sin of daring to dream of a world where they might actually have a chance at life, libery, and the pursuit of happiness some cowardly, insecure fucktard took it upon himself to act as what he doubtless percieved to be the righteous fist of the majority. How dare anyone think that they could spend an afternoon picking up their kids with the woman they love, maybe heading to Dairy Queen to treat them for good grades on a quiz? Where do they get off just living their lives like they're--y'know--normal human beings? Don't they know they're different? Don't they know that's the way it is? Well I'll sure show them right?

And the worst thing, the absolute worst thing that just makes my molars grind is that this thing, sitting there waiting to be arrested acted blase about the whole thing, impatient to be getting home. Never mind that he'd left these women broken and bleeding. Never mind that he'd traumatized their kids, his kids, and the kids of this school. He had to get home in time to watch the latest tractor pull or run the risk of missing So You Think You Can Dance. To top it all, the police released this walking pustulence. He gets to go home after the mild inconvenience of being detained for a few hours while these women are in the hospital.

It boggles the mind, but more than that it shames me and shakes me out of my complacency all at once. The Gay and Lesbian community are a part of everyday living now. They deserve no less than the same fair shake that we all recieve in turn. They also deserve the same defense that anyone who is attacked and made the victim should be granted, and the offender should be charged and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. We need to send a message that this kind of behavior is the antiquated relic of a previous century and will no longer be tolerated. Who we choose to love should have no bearing on who we are in society. It's just that simple. No more.


Stac