“It’s not really a gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender issue as much as it is a human rights issue. The right to defend is a basic human right.” — Andrew Greene
The Philadelphia Weekly title was so great I had to snag it. Pink Pistols was even better. Here’s a sample:about the
The Pink Pistols advocate the use of firearms for self-protection, specifically among their target audience: the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community. The slogan of the loosely organized club-there’s no formal process to become a member-is rather blunt: Armed gays don’t get bashed.
“When friends find out I’m in this, they’re horrified,” says Greene’s 25-year-old straight roommate who asks not to be identified because he doesn’t want his co-workers to talk about him. He speaks softly in a high-pitched voice. A long blond ponytail sprouts from under his camouflage Winchester Rifle baseball cap.
“They think I’m a fascist, a warmonger,” he says.
Many of the Pink Pistols revel in their ability to live in two worlds that seem so ideologically divergent: the gun-loving NRA crowd and the queer community.
“They assume all of us must be Republicans,” says Gwen Patton, the international media spokesperson for the group and head of the Delaware Valley chapter. “Some of us love Bush, but that’s a whole different agenda.”
She deliberately pauses for a moment.
“And yes,” she says with a wry expression, “I meant that as a double entendre.”
Their shooting skills seem to be on par with their political leanings:
Once he’s in the actual range, he puts on a show. He struts with the Uzi, showing it off to others in nearby stalls, then he rests on one knee in his lane with his weapon at eye level. He hunches over his gun, exposing the back of his black Pink Pistols T-shirt, which reads, “Pick on someone your own caliber.” Then he rapidly fires a series of shots.
After a few more bursts he presses the target return button, collects his prize and then, like a first-grader with a good report card, holds the tattered target up to the window so waiting Pink Pistols can appreciate his talent.
Leber and Kriss nod, but Greene isn’t satisfied. He walks out of the lane, through the double doors, and holds the riddled target in front of their faces.
Six holes overlap in a tight 1-inch grouping.
Unlike some things libertarian, it’s not some pie-in-the-sky theory, but a very practical application of basic rights:
More than a decade ago, on a hot summer night, Greene was returning to his car after a night of partying at a Center City leather bar. Sporting a black leather vest, white T-shirt, jeans and leather boots, he headed east from 13th Street toward his car, which was parked in Queen Village.
A few blocks into his journey, four young adults began following him.
“Hey faggot!” Greene says the teens yelled.
Greene picked up the pace. He turned around at one point and saw that each of the thugs was waving a metal pipe as they continued barking at him.
When Greene, who says he hadn’t been drinking, finally arrived at his car, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his five-shot Smith & Wesson revolver, and aimed it at the hooligans.
“Holy shit! He’s got a gun!” Greene says the one of the teens yelled.
Then they ran off.
“This was a successful self-defense with a gun,” Greene says.