"Oh, so you're one of those./?"
Pardon the odd punctuation, but I'm still unsure as to whether or not the above statement was finite or a question. Therefore, I'll include a period and a question mark.
This was uttered by someone I talked to on the phone, to plan a first date. The fellow was a medical resident, so I'll refer to him as Dr. Dean.
Dr. Dean mentioned the newly opened Sugar House bar in Corktown. Two weeks before, I had wanted to have a cocktail at this establishment. However, in the week or two leading up to my would-be date with a doctor, something changed.
Before getting into the nitty-gritty, I'll have to 'fess up to being a Twitter junkie. That being said, I started following the Sugar House account shortly after the bar opened, when a friend raved about the delightful concoctions he had sipped there. I noticed that sometimes the Twitter-tone was a little surly, but thought nothing of it. Then, one morning, the following tweet popped up:
"Here's my review of Yelp: I hope you get AIDS in the butt."
I went a little crazy. Granted, it was an early hour, and I was sick. I had no energy. I was drained. I was also outraged. Sleeping would not happen. I sent oodles of media outlets emails detailing my fury over the comment. Despite being in a medication induced haze, I felt my emails were pretty clear, and depicted my frustrations appropriately. I received no responses.
Why was I angry? I'm sure some readers looked at the above statement and smirked. I didn't. Perhaps I'm just sensitive. I'm not sure if anyone else knows someone with HIV or AIDS. If you do not, it has been my experience that you only think you do not. It's likely someone you know has one or the other, even if it's only a casual acquaintance.
I don't care how the disease was contracted, the reality of it is awful. Sure, some careless actions make acquiring HIV significantly easier than others. Sometimes people screw up. I can't think of a mistake that's outcome should be chronic illness. Perhaps I'm too soft, but I've made peace with my soft streak.
So, I don't think stating "I hope you get AIDS in the butt" is funny.
I also think wishing a person to get "AIDS in the butt" does not speak highly about the gay community. How does the writer feel about all them-there gays? It's a precise and specific way to wish AIDS upon someone. I don't think it's a particularly sensitive thing to say, as people are dying of AIDS (contracted up-the-butt or otherwise) every day, leaving scores of devastated friends and family members. I'm curious if the "tweeter" has knowingly spoken to an individual with HIV or AIDS? Did they discuss how difficult it is to date, knowing you eventually run the risk of infecting a partner? Did they discuss compassionate healthcare? Did they cover the availability of medical insurance? Was there chat about "breaking the news to mom and dad"? What about people with children, was there discussion about knowing you might miss certain milestones, or knowing that there is still, with all the medical interventions currently available, a small risk of a mother passing HIV to a child? These aren't conversations I wish upon anyone.
What an incredibly over-the-top reaction to a website based on consumer reviews. For the record, the Yelp rating of Sugar House was 3.5 stars the day of the Twitter posting. That isn't my idea of imminent doom. Mixed in with some negative reviews were some glowing gems. Considering that Yelp is a website of reviews written by consumers, I also find it crass to wish terminal illness upon reviewers.
After all of my fuming over this tacky tweet, I vowed never to step into Sugar House. I'm not the only one. Though I drove by on a recent Saturday evening, and there was an entry line, I know a good chunk of people who will never patronize Sugar House bar. I know a few more who regret spending money there.
So, I explained, with far less gusto than expressed in this posting, why I would prefer not to patronize Sugar House. All I did was quote the tweet, and state I found it insensitive.
His reaction was a chuckle and "oh, so you're one of those?"
My only reply could be, "I guess I am."
He smoothly navigated a few more sentences, and then got me off of the phone quickly. He said he would call soon, and we would discuss a location. I still haven't heard from him.
I could have thrown my scruples to the wind and agreed to meet (the rather handsome) Dr. Dean at Sugar House. However, the more I age, the more intolerant of intolerance I've become. I might eventually be a spinster, but I'll happily live out my own, empathetic, version of spinsterhood with compassion.
