NEW YORK
He convinced me because I could never say no to New York. This city couldn’t be more different from Washington D.C. Here, people’s private lives, including those of homosexuals, were inconsequential.
There were also raids, prejudices, and abuses, but the city didn’t depend on the federal government, the economy was not based on war but on services and culture. And without the gays, the Big Apple wouldn’t be the capital of the world.
However, New York had a different problem with homosexuals. In Washington, the FBI had an arrange-ment with the bars because it allowed them to moni-tor the politicians who visited them. But in the Big Apple, the mafia was in charge. This was because a city statute prohibited granting liquor licenses to “indecent” places. So, it was the mobsters who bribed the police to turn a blind eye. If a bar didn’t pay bribes, the punishment was a raid.
When homosexuals got tired of police blackmail and the dog pounds, the New York homosexuals, on June 28, 1969, didn’t think about losing their jobs and reputation, but they took to the streets and fought back. In Washington, Phase One’s customers watched in astonishment as those from New York fought the police for three consecutive days. In the city of secrets, 144
this was unthinkable. Going out on the street and in front of cameras? Never! “That can only happen in New York because it’s a city of Jews,” they said. Well, they didn’t imagine that the invasion of their city would come from where they least expected it.
We went by train and the plan was to stay in the baths for three days; a crazy idea because this wasn’t a hotel, and no one could sleep when there were two orgasms every half hour in the adjacent rooms.
When I entered, the place seemed beautiful to me.
David noticed my nervousness and told me that I didn’t have to have sex and if I didn’t like it, we would go to a hotel. I told him to take care of his own business: I would stay and watch the show. To my surprise, before the event, the audience entered: men and women, elderly people, and even children sat next to pairs of men in towels.
When Bette Midler made her debut, there wasn’t room for a soul. She would be the star, second only to Roberta Flack. “Hello, Queens!” the singer shouted in a femme fatale style, and the audience burst into laughter. And then she drove us crazy with the song
“You’ve got to have friends.” She premiered it there, and one knew that, if it weren’t for the gay friends, our lives would be hell.
After the show, I stayed at the bar and ordered a glass of wine. I looked at the New Yorkers and their way of being, much more open and direct than those 145
in Washington. I wasn’t prepared for the intensity of the harassment.
Could you dance in New York? Here we were in the center of the world, and the sodomy laws were still in effect. At any moment, the most beautiful people could end up in a dog pound. One of them made a come on.
“Hey, where are you from?”
“From Washington D.C.”
“Poor thing! That city is not for you. It’s like living homosexuality in the 1950s. You should come to Manhattan.”
“Don’t underestimate Washington. Without it, New York wouldn’t have had Stonewall. You fought, but we have the brain of the movement.”
“For now, come with me to the apartment.”
“But I came with a friend.”
“Leave him, he won’t even notice.”
“But there are psychopaths here who hook up with gays and leave them in bags in Central Park.”
“You’re in the Big Apple, here we face things head-on.”
“Well, it’s true, you screw like rabbits here. However, you’re so busy doing it that others have to do things for you.”
I left and took a photo as a souvenir to remember my first adventure in the city of lights. If you succeed here, you succeed in the wide and long world.