The texts started flying early.
Notifications lit up my cellphone like a Christmas tree this morning – a gunman killed at least 50 people at a gay nightclub in Orlando, and everyone was either sharing the news story or asking whether we lost anyone.
After confirming that our friends in Orlando were alive, we monitored the climbing death toll on our phones while walking the dogs through downtown Dallas. There were more than a dozen bicycle cops on the Katy Trail, and a few nervous security guards at Klyde Warren Park.
Later we brunched in the gayborhood while discussing escape plans for each gay club – would we climb on the roof from S4’s second floor balcony? Is there a back exit door at Havana’s? Would gay guys run to their cars and get guns? (This is Texas, after all.)
The morbid emergency planning was broken by a swarm of people who flooded the Oak Lawn bars. There were cocktails, uncomfortable laughs, and armed security guards. We were uneasy, but still out and supporting each other.