sexuality
by walter meyer
stormed back to the bar, where he loudly complained to his friends about what an <expletive deleted> I was. I wasn’t sure if I should stay for dinner, but the waiter came over, took my order and was nice and apologetic, so I stayed. Being new at the bar scene, it had me concerned that this happened often. It made me think twice about going alone to a gay bar again. Like most guys, I like having someone touch my chest and tell me it’s
hot. What is not nice is having someone force themselves on me to do it. I wonder how many gay guys stopped going to bars or were much slower to enter the gay world after an experience like mine—and worse. There were many other incidents over the years, but let’s fast forward 18
ME TOO. Many of my Facebook friends posted shock at the number of “Me too” posts show-
ing up in their feed. The posts, primarily from women, but also many men, attested that they too had been the victims of sexual assault of one sort or another—from inappropriate comments and touches to violent rapes. My surprise was not at the number of people saying, “Me too” but that anyone
could be surprised by the number. In what naïve bubble have these folks been living that they didn’t know the size and scope of the problem? Or are we as a society blind to such things? Or do we know it’s going on, but like the people who lived next to Auschwitz, it is so much easier to look the other way? Depending on the source, somewhere around one -in-four or one-in-six women
have been raped. Now, factor in the huge number who have been groped on the subway or the street. I would have to think we are above 90 percent and if we include unwelcome sexual comments, we have to be approaching 100 percent of women who have felt violated. Years ago, I read a statistic from a reliable source that something like 30 percent
of girls and 15 percent of boys, had their first sexual experience before age 15 with a family member or close friend of the family. I personally, have heard enough first-hand stories to have no reason to think those stats are unreal.
JUST A FEW STORIES: Twenty years ago, I was just coming out (late, I know, but still…). I was driving
back from L.A. on a Sunday afternoon and decided to stop at Greystokes for dinner. It was a gay bar in Oceanside that served food. It was one of my first ventures into a gay bar by myself and I was still a bit nervous. I was seated and as I looked at the menu, a guy came and sat down at my table in the chair next to mine and grabbed my chest. “Nice pecs,” he said. I was shocked. Although it was certainly not my first time being groped by a guy (those are stories for another time), I had little experience in gay bars and wasn’t sure if this was normal, but I knew I didn’t like it. I told him to get his hands off me. He got angry at me, told me I was rude, that I looked like I wanted company and that was he was just trying to be friendly. He
years. I was at Babycakes for “Church” with a friend and a guy passing by on the way to the bathroom grabbed my friend’s crotch. The guy smiled, leered and continued on his way. My friend and I were flabbergasted. On the guy’s return, he once again reached for my friend’s crotch. I shot my hand out and grabbed the guy’s wrist. “Don’t do that,” I said firmly. He looked at me and said, “I was just playing…And he likes it.” “That’s not playing,” I said, “He doesn’t like it. Do not do it again.” My
friend was still too much in shock to say anything. The guy said, “Sorry if your boyfriend doesn’t like it, but it’s no big deal.” I said, “He’s not my boyfriend and it is a big deal. Touching someone without their permission is called assault. Touching their private parts without permission is called sexual assault. If you touch him again, I will call the police.” He took a tough-guy stance and said, “You want to step outside?” I replied, “No, I want you to step outside before I call security then the police.” “Too chicken shit to go outside with me?” he dared. At that moment I saw Craig, the manager of Babycakes walking by and I called to him. Craig was wearing a Babycakes shirt and an air of authority; as he approached the guy slunk away. I told Craig what happened and Craig said if I saw the guy again to tell him and he’d throw him out. Here is the thing—there have been times when I very much wanted someone to grab my chest or pinch my nipple, but the eye contact, the body language, the flat-out spoken invitation made it clear that such a move was welcome. If you are unsure if you are allowed to put your hands on someone’s body—be it a friend, a stranger or that hot shirtless bartender—ASK. With anyone, before you touch and if you are the least bit in doubt as to whether it is appropriate—DON’T DO IT!
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RAGE monthly | DECEMBER 2017
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