I found this photo and article on the internet and thought I would share. Such a horrible story but thank goodness he is ok:
I was walking through central Amsterdam with my boyfriend back to our hotel. People were still milling about on the sidewalks from Friday night’s revelry. We were only blocks from the most popular gay areas; and we were holding hands.
As we passed two men standing on the side of the street, one of them deliberately spat on us, mainly hitting me in the face. Without saying a word, we stood our ground. We stopped, turned around, and asked why. The man, who looked in his 20s, had Moroccan features and spoke with a heavy accent, murmured something about “fucking fags.”
Within seconds, the two somehow turned into seven — and five of them were ganging up on me, probably because at 6-foot-7 I’m a good bit bigger than my boyfriend. It seemed like every direction I turned, I got another punch to the face, and when they kicked me to the ground, time seemed to stop. My heart still races as I write about it now. It felt like the situation had spiraled completely out of my control.
Then just as quickly as it began, it was over. I was standing up on my own, and our attackers were fleeing. There had been dozens of people on the streetcorner, but none of them had acted or even yelled anything. My boyfriend had escaped his attackers and had come to my aid, and that finally convinced the others to run.
I was covered in blood, mostly from my nose, but I got lucky: no broken bones, no damage to my vision, just some very nasty bruises and a lot to think about.