Sentience in a seed-pod

Yesterday somebody hooted at me and called me a faggot. I think it was because I was wearing my shocking pink untitled shirt. Anyway, it made me feel yucky, which is irritating because that's exactly what it was meant to do. The last time I was insulted unprovoked by a stranger was when I was called a white nigger in Nigeria.
I hate the fact that I can't do what I want to do and wear what I want to wear without people boxing me. I guess this is teenage angst I should already have squared away. Do I want to be understood? I think that'd be a little overambitious. But I would like people threatened by me to leave me the hell alone. Perhaps that's just my inborn British heritage.