When I was a young one, and a young lesbian, there was this woman—I mean she was a real woman and not another college co-ed—who asked me out. It was going to be a real date. We had been working together, so
I was scared to go for at least two reasons.
On our second date, she brought her ex. I didn’t have one to bring
because I was new at all of this and had only dated—slept with—one other
female who was… let’s say 'unobtainable.'
“Anyhoo!”
I remember exactly where we were, enjoying dinner. I often drive by the empty, boarded-up
building that will soon be a music venue off Manchaca and then glance over to
where we worked together. I try to forget all of it.
To be fair, we worked at
a psyche hospital, and it’s true what people say, “The staff is crazier than the
patients. They're just better at hiding it.” So, there we were—two female staffers
on a date who worked on the same psyche unit—only a block from where we worked (so
that anyone coming off the shift could peg us), and we were talking about what
went wrong in her last relationship.
“Why did you break up?” I asked.
“She was crazy.”
“Really crazy, like in a psyche hospital crazy?” I hitched
my thumb toward our stomping ground.
“No, get this—.” My date wrapped her mouth around a ball of spaghetti noodles, and
then offered, “She was jealous of my cats.”
My neck cranked back like it still does 30 years later when I
tell this story. (And, I tell it a lot!)
“Who would be jealous of a cat?" I moved in with emphasis, demanding an answer from the victim. "How could someone who loves you be jealous of your cats?” And then I
sucked in my spaghetti noodles, and later we hooked up because that’s a successful
lesbian date. The exs come for dinner;
they are dismissed; and, we get naked because we can’t get pregnant from...kissing.
I knew we weren’t right for each other. To be honest, I just
wanted to have the experience, and there were 2 months between semesters; also,
we worked together. I wasn’t going to break up for at least two reasons or until
I found someone. That’s what lesbians do. They hook up; they get naked; and, they find
a replacement so that they can keep getting naked because we’re gonna be around
other girls anyways so one of them might as well be a girlfriend.
But, my date/colleague was a bit older. She was able to visualize alone time and didn’t
really have the parameters of “I’ve got nothing to do between now and Spring semester registration.” So, one day when I phoned to see if we were going to
hook up, she said, “I haven’t really been at home much.” And, “I need to hang with my cats.” The next time she said, “I need to practice
being alone… and be with my cats.” And the third time she said, “I’m not
spending enough time with my cats.”
“I hate your fucking cats,” I said to myself really loud on the inside, and
then I remembered the night we ate spaghetti, and how we had dismissed her ex. “Who hates their lover’s cats?” I had thought, but there I was … being a
hater.
The truth is, well you know it. Everyone’s got someone or something; everyone’s
got an excuse for not doing what’s uncomfortable. Maybe they’re avoiding a form
of intimacy, a co-ed, a mundane task, etc etc.
“Who knows?”
“Whatever.”
But, I learned something during that Christmas break which was more valuable than … most other stuff I’ve learned.
“Order your spaghetti, invite in the ex, and look for her cat—whatever
name it might go by."
Right? It’s just best to get it all out before the end of the second date. We all know what happens then.
Let’s welcome some cool cats from all around the
world : Latvia, Isle of Man, Peru, Serbia, Suriname, Kuwait, Pakistan, Belarus,
Vietnam, Argentina, Lithuania, Bulgaria, Kyrgystan, Nepal, Kazakhstan & Uganda
That puts 2girlsR>1 in 67+us nations after 3 years. Woo-hoo! Thanks to all my sisters with wanderlust and a desire to note our presence. WE are not invisible; we are your friends, siblings, children; we are everywhere. Thanks for making this happen, :)
