Adventures in the BBW District Part 2

I recommend starting with Part 1.

The floor filled up with extra big women in skimpy, sexy outfits and thinner men. Besides my posse on the dance floor all the women were white, outnumbering the men 2:1, and the men were split between white and black. There was one man watching from the sidelines as we danced who gave me really bad vibes with his squirelly eyes and greasy hair. I integrated a prayer into my dance that he would cause no harm that night.

It felt so good, and so–I don’t know–normal to be out on the floor dancing with these beautiful women. I never really went out dancing with a group of femmes before. We were all good dancers, but when Chelsea started pulling some crazy moves, it turned into one of those ‘spotlight’ moments. Each woman had a turn to bust a move…and I did what I always do when my turn comes up…I folded. I think I’m generally a good dancer, but I don’t really conciously know any steps. I just kinda improvise. Every time I have “all eyes on me” I just can’t think of anything to do. I think I need to search the web for some kind of impressive dance move and actually learn it for just such moments.

As the night wore on it became clear that, wife or no wife, Tami and Kiki had made a connection, and apparently that meant that Tami and Chelsea had to spend a prolonged period in the bathroom, presumably gossiping about the situation. This is some kind of ‘normal’ femme ritual that I’ve never really been exposed to before. I guess my friends have tended to be hippies/alternative-types and/or men or bois, so despite being typecast as a Femme, I haven’t really had a lot of exposure to girly ways.

I did, however, get roped into an all-too-familiar straight ritual when a woman pulled me aside and told me that her friend wanted to talk to me. I sat down next to him gamely. His brown face lit up as he favored me with a smile. Was he attractive? I don’t know. I think that his attraction for me was attractive.

“I’ve seen you before in Watertown, you look really nice.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Wait-where did you see me?”

“At one of these dances, in Watertown.”

“Um, I’ve never been to one of these before.”

“Uhuh…” He replied skeptically. “You’ve really never been to one of these before?” Like it was so hard to believe that a big girl like me could really go her whole life–even find plenty of partners–without attending an event specially catering to women with her form. (Believe me, at a size 16 I was skinny compared to most of these women.)

“No, my friend just told me about it–”

“So, are those your friends?” He interjected. “So what’s the story with you guys?”

“Well,” I said, taking a deep breath, “We’re Lesbians.”

“What???” He did a serious double-take. “Really?”

“Uhuh.”

“So where are you from?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“I’m from ****” (neighborhood with a reputation for rich jewish people.)

“Oh, so you’re rich.”  His eyes lit up with dollar signs.

“Um, no…” I replied. “Not everyone who lives in **** is rich.” If I had any attraction for him at all it was gone at this point. I am soooooo sick of men and studs too thinking that just because I’m white and I live in a certain neighborhood I’m made of money! I’m not, and even if I was, how attractive do they really think that blatantly exploitative mentality is? Oh yeah, show me you just want me for what you think you can get from me, because then I will definitely want to sleep with you and pay for your shit! Fuck that!

So I did what I always do at this point, I down-sold myself.

“Actually, I live in my mother’s basement…with my two kids.”

“But I thought you were a Lesbian?”

2 Comments

  1. omg what a dick! obviously lesbians don’t have or want any children and they never, ever have sex with men. dumb ass. I would’ve given him hell and a kick in the crotch.

  2. Yeah well I have guys hit on me like this just about every week. I just politely declined to give him my number. Although I just may kick the next person–male or female-who attempts to treat me like walking ATM.


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