In gay neighborhoods, we never went to 4th of July Fireworks. Deliberately watching loud, flashy explosions? More of a heterosexual thing. Besides, gay people were criminals in 23 states, we were deprived of our most basic human rights, we were regularly beat up by the police and demonized by politicians -- why should we celebrate the Independence Day of a country that hated us?
But I live in the Straight World now, and apparently the 4th of July Firework Celebration is the big event of the summer, so last night I went, for the first time since high school.
My friend Gabe had to work at the gay-friendly coffee house, and my sort-of boyfriend Dustin was out of town, so I went alone, figuring I would run into people I know there.
But things got weird. It was like an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Tales of West Hollywood.