Written by John Rechy
The Sexual Outlaw, 1977
Of course the parade would be down Hollywood Boulevard. Where else but on the turf they’ve tried deviously with ordinances, openly with violence, to wrest from us year after year? Hollywood Boulevard. Site of how many gay battles fought cruising and hustling, being chased away by the envious cops, and returning to cruise and hustle, on the same corner, your favorite? Our street, conquered with how many busts for loitering and soliciting and trespassing? how many charges of lewd conduct? how many citations for, even, jaywalking? Bought with how many cop interrogations and trips to jail to be hassled, questioned booked, held, charged? Oh, yes, bought, and paid for, yes, in symbolic lavender bloodbaths, this beautiful ugly street, with its butch army-surplus store for workers’ boots and muscle shirts; dandy shops for glitter concerts and times when you want to show your supertrim build; the store displaying the ubiquitous statue of David, in two groin sizes; this street with its cartoon-vamp-style shop featuring superb sequined clothes just right for a drag ball; this Boulevard with its outdoor food stands ingeniously right for loitering, cruising, soliciting, hustling, jaywalking-to, and lewd-conduct.
© 1977 John Rechy; New York: Grove Press