I gave him my wallet. He opened it. “Why did you come to California?” he asked.“I was given a job here.”He threw my wallet at me. “You bette... go home before you get hurt.” They snorted and left.When I tried to get up I realized that something was terribly wrong with me. I could still walk. I walked slowly to the apartment of the friend I was staying with. It is dangerous to walk in a dangerous neighborhood when you have been hurt. You are telling the muggers, “I can’t fight back. Mug me.”When I. But before I dressed, I stood there in the open and beat off, hoping someone in the apartment complex behind the office building could see. When I got to my house, I went to my room, but before going to bed, I checked both my phone and e-mails. I had 43 missed calls and most left voice mails. I also had over 200 e-mail messages. Just as I lay down, my phone rang again and I picked it up.“Hey is this the faggot Bitch?”I was unsure as to how to answer, but mainly too tired to think so finally. More

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