From The Ashes ...

Sure You Can Marry, but.....

AIDSWalk New York is over. Filled with love for our fellow fags, Me, The Hellcat and his boyfriend A---- head down to the village. It's a bright, sunny, spring day and everyone seems to be down on the waterfront. After a quick stop in The Dugout for a beer, we join them. As it always seems to happen New Yorkers have managed to coexist, with the first, largest pier seemingly ceded to "the gays". There's all manner of shirtless men either walking up and down the pier, looking out at the passing boats or stripped down to their swimsuits getting some late afternoon sun. (Of course, I remember when I first moved here before the old pier was torn down. In those days you were less likely to see someone in a swimsuit and more likely to see him in his birthday suit. Gentrification has its drawbacks.) In any case it was a fleshfest and we were loving it. We walked the length of the "gay pier" before crossing over to the (smaller, more drab) "straight pier". I speculated that the people lounging on the connecting grass were probably the bisexuals but it was just a working theory. M--- and A----- "roughhoused" a bit (I know that word is archaic but that's exactly what they were doing). They kissed (third wheel much?), we saw a fire boat shoot its water cannons over the bow of a departing cruise ship. Yes, of course I left my camera uptown. We bought a couple of sodas, and generally "made the scene." Eventually,we made our way back to The Dugout for another drink. That's three drinks over the course of three hours if anyone's keeping score. The Dugout was much busier than when we left it but we managed to carve out an area in front by the pool table and were standing around having a chat. It was getting late, (not late at night, late as in The Hellcat and I had to work) and I mentioned that. The Hellcat said he wanted to stop at The Hangar before we headed uptown, but I was feeling relaxed and had no desire to cross over into tipsy right before a closing shift at work. A---- expressed a similar sentiment. I managed to convince The Hellcat we should call it a day. As we headed up Christopher St. towards 6th Ave. and an uptown taxi, I realized that I was pretty hungry and perhaps a quick bite might be wise. And for no other reason than there it was we opted to stop in at Rivoli Pizza. It's located right on the corner of Christopher and Hudson, and if memory serves (and it might not) they've been there a good amount of time. I know that at some point they renovated the front so that it opens right out on to the street. A smart way to capture hungry homosexuals. It worked on us.

We walked in and up to the counter and ordered a couple slices. For some reason, I walked away from A----- and The Hellcat, positioning myself closer to the cash register while they headed over towards a free standing table to wait. I really wasn't doing anything, just sort of looking around, at a menu, I think, when I became aware of one of the counter men yelling across the room. Not yelling angry just yelling:

"Hey guys, come on cut it out."

Naturally, I look across the room to see who he's talking to.

It's The Hellcat and A-----. And they were kissing. That's it. No sloppy tongue-wrestling. No kiss, grab a handful of ass, kiss. Just arm around the other closed mouth kiss. On Christopher St. OUR Christopher St. Or did I miss a memo? Now, I know how 70's that sounds, and I'm not that old.I don't believe every business on the block should be gay owned or gay related. I think ghettoizing ourselves, while understandable at the time, safety in numbers and a wish to stand together and form a "community", in retrospect may have been a mistake. In terms of allowing people to characterize us as "them" and therfore "other" read: different. But traditionally and historically (at least from the late 50's on,) Christopher St. has been "ours". And if you think that's untrue just take a walk any Sunny Sunday. It's wall to wall fags. Always has been. And if you think the aforementioned "gay pier" isn't owned by us, well girrrl you just don't get it.

But doesn't it stand to reason that if you locate your business right in the heart of Gaytown, USA that more than likely you'll attract modern, out, comfortable gay people? The kind that don't see anything wrong with giving your boyfriend a smooch while your slice is warming up? And doesn't it stand to reason that a policy prohibiting that might be thought of as offensive? Like we did.

As soon as I realized what was happening I walked over to The Hellcat and said something to the effect of, "I have no intention of giving these people my money. Let's go." I walked out to the sidewalk followed by A-----, followed, I expected by The Hellcat. And I waited. And waited. Then it dawned on me perhaps The Hellcat was living up to his nickname and I oughta investigate. Sure enough upon re-entering the establishment a verbal argument had obviously already escalated culminating in The Hellcat shoving a plasticware tray across the counter whereupon two of the countermen began to chase him,and now me out of the pizzeria. We stopped once on the sidewalk and gave them the arms outstretched in the universal "what's up? c'mon man, what you gonna do?" pose but they had no real belly for a street fight.

So what's wrong here and what's to be done? Clearly what's wrong is this establishment, or at the very least it's employees, have taken it upon themselves to police and discourage a simple act of affection. Is this also the owners' policy? Do I believe for a second that if it had been a straight couple sitting in the sun and waiting for their slice while they innocently kissed that a single objection would have been uttered? Oh hell no.Which means specifically two gay men are not allowed to kiss in public here. We can spend our money here. We can help the owners pay their mortgage here. But kissing. "Hey, come on , guys. Cut it out." THAT offends me. More, it pisses me the fuck off! What's to be done? Well, at the very least, I could just stop patronizing this establishment and urge others to do the same. I've done that before and gotten a measure of satisfaction out of it.