The Setup: My best guy friend (BGF) just broke up with his girlfriend a few days ago, so last night I invited him and a few others over to help him keep his mind off of things. There ended up being only 5 of us, me, my SO, BGF, and my best friend Sue and her boyfriend–who I’ll call flaming asshole. Everyone was having a good time, the boys drank some beers and played marioKart, me and Sue made some killer margaritas and played dirty scrabble, then later we all played dice and just sat around talking. So the night is winding down, everyone’s a little drunk, and somehow the conversation gets turned around to “gay” being used as an insult. Flaming Asshole then used this opportunity to begin a rant which included the following nuggets of wisdom*
*Classifying crimes against gays as hate crimes–even when they are committed strictly out of hate–is stupid because if a gay guy beat up a straight guy that wouldn’t count.
–Now, I also think hate crimes are questionable constructs, but my reasons are at least based on personal feelings, not falsities I’ve convinced myself are true. We point out to Flaming Asshole that he’s wrong. I also ask him how often he thinks straight guys are really tortured and killed because they are straight. Cornered, he changes his point to
***Well, if a gay guy beat up a straight guy, it wouldn’t even get reported because the victim would be too embarrassed to say a “fag kicked his ass”. **
–I told him that sounded like a self-esteem problem on the part of the victim, and had nothing to do with the hate crime concept. BGF backed me up here; Sue was starting to look uncomfortable, trying to change the subject. Flaming Asshole continued,
*All the protections afforded minorities are bullshit because the white man gets nothing, the system’s always against the white guy in social crimes, blah blah blah
–I didn’t even touch his reasoning here, just because it’s such a complicated subject, and he’s too stupid to discuss it rationally. I did, however, get ten times more annoyed listening to his ‘poor oppressed white man routine’. It’s one of his favorites. He talks about the summer he “lived” on G street as if it were the dirtiest, trashiest, hoodiest place on earth. He’s “down” because he lived in such a trashole, you know? To hell with the fact that he says these things in front of me, knowing that I grew up less than a block away from this “shithood”, or that my parents and little sisters still live there. This guy grew up in an affluent part of town and went to private schools until he was kicked out into public school with the rest of us peons. He drove a brand new Talon in high school that his parents paid for (he later crased it while DUI), they sent him to college fully funded (until he flunked out). He has family connections in both the local judicial and political arenas. His mother still pays his rent sometimes. (He’s 25) Give me a fucking break. Back on hate crimes, Flaming Asshole is back to claiming that
***Hate crimes are ridiculous because when a gay beats a straight “no crime has been committed”. **
—BGF breaks in to say, “well, actually yes, it’s called assault and battery”. Everyone laughs, I want to kiss BGF, who then says that a gay doing such a thing would go to prison and perhaps end up with a large menacing cell-mate who’d add to his punishment… Flaming Asshole LOVES this idea except for one little problem
*“Yeah, but they’d like it–Haw Haw Haw!”.
Now I’m starting to get genuinely angry. I like spirited conversations, and up to this point I was frustrated yet amused. But this was too much to just let pass in my book.
I say–“Yeah, and I like hetero sex so I guess I’d love a good rapin’, huh?” My intent was simply to point out how flawed his reasoning was, I wasn’t yelling or snotty, and I think I even smiled a little to let him know I wasn’t trying to attack him personally. I guess I was hoping for a sheepish aknowledgement, an ‘ok, that was kind of dumb’ disclaimer. Instead, Flaming Asshole’s fur goes up and it’s on. He says I’m nitpicky, that I always point out his flaws (trust me I don’t, I simply don’t have enough free time for such a task), that I’m not perfect either (and I said I was when?), etc. etc. etc. He’s starting to yell. I say, “Flaming Asshole, I just meant that rape isn’t funny! There’s nothing funny about it! Sometimes I think you just say things without really thinking about it first…”
He’s interrupting me–getting louder–apparently I say things without thinking sometimes too, he tells me. I’m just getting on his ass to be a bitch.
I reiterate my position, I’m so angry I’m starting to tremble–“I don’t think rape jokes are funny FA, and I don’t want to hear them. I didn’t think it was funny at all when I got raped.” Now, my rape is not something I talk to many people about, and only BGF even knew about it before this moment.
FA gives a big dramatic sigh and rolls his eyes. “You know bella, I’m not trying to offend you (too late dickdrip!), but I’ve known a lot of women who say they’ve been raped when they haven’t.”
WAIT…A…FUCKING…MINUTE. Oh no, you didn’t…
“If you aren’t trying to offend me, than why would you even say that FA?” He couldn’t answer that… “So I’m a liar then, thanks for clearing that up for me.” I’m in tears by now and run to my room before I say something I won’t be able to take back. They leave, FA says to my SO “well I guess I’ll see you again when I’m acceptable company around here, ha ha”. I’m in my bed trying to stop shaking. My SO comes in and holds me while I cry for an hour before I can calm myself down. So to Flaming Asshole, and all you other fucks out there who open your mouth without thinking, FUCK YOU! Rape Jokes are NOT FUNNY! Especially not in mixed company, when you have NO way of knowing everyone’s history. Do you have at least ten female relatives? Then chances are one of them was also victimized, how would your mother like to hear you telling jokes about something she fell prey to? Would you think it was funny if someone raped your little sister?
I was nine years old when I was raped by a cousin, and while the act was confusing and painful, it was all the nasty little comments and jokes and half-laughs–and the ‘blame the victim’ attitudes reflected in them–that made me feel dirty for years afterward. It took me a long time to reconcile that frightening experience with a healthy sense of my sexuality, and I went through five lovers before I could even begin to let down some of the walls I had had to build over the years to keep out the poison spewed by ogres like FA. I’m a grown woman now, and I haven’t cried over what happened to the 9-year-old girl that I was in over five years. Until last night.
Thanks a lot asshole, way to prove your manhood.
