Senseless violence

Walking home from grocery shopping yesterday afternoon I passed my favourite pub and stopped to chat with one of the regulars, Tim, who was outside having a smoke. He told me the pub was closed by the police last night and only just reopened about 20 hours later.

Rich, another of the regulars, a slight framed man about 60, a father and a regular patron, was playing pool the night before. A young construction worker, who had played the previous game with him, suddenly and without provocation, threw a punch and sent Rich flying backwards. The back of his head hit the tiled floor by the entrance so hard that the sound was heard even outside the bar.

A hush fell over the room. The construction worker tried to walk out nonchalantly but the head bartender and four patrons followed him and surrounded him on the sidewalk a few metres away. Lindsay, a fairly muscular friend, was one of them. He is a gentle man but was crackling like a down Hydro wire, daring the young man to hit him, but the young man shrank from the challenge.

Lindsay kept asking him why he did it. The young man said Rich had brushed against him while trying to position himself for a shot. "He's a faggot and he touched me. He deserved it!" He repeated this over and over, even after the police arrived, which should be enough to brand this as a hate crime. Apparently, another patron overheard the construction worker and his friend discussing which "faggot" they were going to take out before the attack happened. They had made a trip to this bar in the gay village to hunt for a victim.

Rich went into a coma when the back of his head struck the floor on Friday night. He hasn't come out of it. He was rushed to St Paul's hospital next door but they haven't been able to stop the bleeding in his brain. The doctors give him little hope of surviving. The news made me sick, the thought of this perennially cheery guy who did never did more than give friendly shoulder pats and talk about the Canucks. For all I know he is dead by now.

I am sort of a regular at that pub. I'm not into watching hockey games or alcohol that much but it's very friendly, convenient and accessible. I often go there for a snack or just to chat with the regulars. They are a mix of gays and straights, men and women, and we share hugs and an occasional peck on the cheek if we know each other well. Being that I am visibly disabled when I walk, if one is looking for that, makes me a prime candidate for a designated attack like this as I can't defend myself. Last fall while walking past the same pub with groceries in both arms, I was shoved against the patio railing and called a faggot. My assailants did nothing more. All I could do is glare at them as they walked away laughing. The incident upset me for several days, but I was able to eventually forget about it. Until today.