Gay-bashed again in San Francisco

Well, it never really ends.
This morning in SF, it was raining and deserted as I walked to the train stop. I wanted to ride my newly-fixed bicycle, but no luck for me. As I approached the train stop, I saw the N Judah coming and thought my luck had changed.
Stepped inside and noticed a younger woman doing needlepoint, an odd thing to do at 9:15 on a train. I used to do that in grade school. Anyway, I turned around and waited to go through the tunnel to Cole street in Upper Haight - my stop.
With my back turned, I overheard this conversation:

Male Voice: What's that your doing?
Young Woman: Needlepoint.
MV: Ohhhh. What for?
YW: Well, all my friends are making a square and then we are going to stitch them all together?
MV: Oh, like a quilt. Like the AIDS quilt!
YW: (uncomfortably) Yeah...
MV: That's about as bad as it can get.
YW: Uh-huh.
MV: I couldn't believe it when AIDS came around, but well, that's what happens to faggots.
YW: (freaked) Yeah...

So then I turned around to look at MV. He was some curly-haird white dude with a sling on his arm. In less than a second, I hope with all my might that it was some faggot that had broken his arm. I shot him the dirtiest look I could muster, then turned back around.

Man: Well, I'm sorry but I'm not a homosexual.

I turned around again, and said "Well, you're in San Francisco, so you need to watch your mouth, asshole."

Right then the train stopped and it was time to get out. I didn't really hear his response - just a bunch of grumpy mumblings about how he'd lived here for 28 years or something.

So, yes, just in case you (or I) forgot, ignorant people still use the word faggot in casual conversations with strangers, even in the gayest city in the world. Happy Thanksgiving...
-ld