From Tim Marshall/Resident
On Friday, July 11th, 2025, around 6:40pm, I was about to cross a marked crosswalk on East Olive Way, heading home after a workout at a local gym. This is a notoriously busy crosswalk, and several cars blazed through the intersection before it was safe to cross. A dark-colored sedan approached as I stepped out and the sedan continued without pause, so I stepped back. I was annoyed, so I flipped off the driver. For reference, I am a 35-year old cisgender white man who is visibly queer. I would describe myself as an assertive pedestrian, one who routinely sees drivers ignore crosswalks, and feels empowered to communicate my urge for drivers to be cautious in my neighborhood. The driver returned the finger after driving for half a block. I was amused at the driver’s reaction, a man in his early 20s, and I performatively blew him a kiss. This is a rarer reaction of mine, and is intended to de-escalated a tense situation. I crossed the street alongside a queer couple in their 40s, assuming the event had passed. I passed CC Attle’s, a longstanding queer establishment on Boylston Ave, and continued walking south towards home. I passed a handful of bar goers and fellow pedestrians, fiddling with my phone.
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I made it three quarters down the block before I noticed the same dark colored sedan parked in front of me. The driver approached me sternly, eyes narrowed, asking me a question I could not hear over the music roaring through my headphones. I popped out one earbud, offering a placid ‘what?’ before he squared up in front of me and punched me between the eyes. I fell to the sidewalk, landing roughly on my right arm, and he continued to punch me and kick me in the front and back of my head, yelling “don’t you ever blow me another kiss, faggot”. After maybe 30 seconds of blows, he turned around and taunted “are you going to blow me another kiss, faggot?” I was stunned, shouted an expletive, and after threatening me again with clenched fists, I retreated, shouting “I’m sorry!” I quickly pulled myself to my feet. An Amazon driver cautiously approached, asking “are you okay?” Panicked, I blurted out “yeah!” and kept walking. I passed another woman who met my eyes and then sheepishly looked back to her phone. Continue reading →