Saturday Night Fever: Pt 3 “Second Chances”

Start the adventure at the beginning with “Man-O-Phobic

Back inside, I tried to pretend like nothing happened.

A part of me had hoped that the stud I was dancing with just went to get some cash to buy me a drink, but as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of her, it became clear that she had really and truly left. After dancing with me for a bit, Chelsea decided to head out, and with Chelsea gone my cheerful front crumbled and I sank into a funk. I felt so humiliated!

Glancing over at a stud who had also shared the stage, I felt like damaged goods. What other woman here would want me now after seeing me all over this other woman for hours? What passed through this woman’s mind between grabbing my ass and running for the door? Was it because I didn’t buy her a drink?

What was wrong with me anyway? I keep saying that I’m not the kind of girl who…kisses on first dates, grinds and makes out with total strangers…but it’s becoming increasingly clear, that I am, in fact, that kind of girl. To make matters worse, not only did I not get her number, but I never completely caught her name! (It was a name I’d never heard before, it was loud, and I felt too embarrassed  to ask a third time.) I also had the sinking feeling that if I saw her again in different clothing I might not even recognize her!

Fuck it! I thought, Time to call it a night. I went over to the niche where my stuff was stashed and layered up to go outside. As I approached the door the beautiful door woman stopped me.

“You’re not leaving already?” She asked in soft foreign accent.

“Well, yeah.” I said. “I thought I would.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She sounded genuinely disappointed.

“Thank you so much for coming!” Chimed in a pretty latina femme, beaming at me from next to her. Being smiled at by two beautiful women made me suddenly in a lot less of a hurry to leave.

“Well I guess I could stay a little bit longer…”

I went back to my niche and stripped some layers off. As I took off my sweater I noticed a sunken-eyed mexican man looking at me.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“Nothing,” He answered, “I’ve just never seen a Lesbian with such a nice smile before.”

“Oh, um…thanks.”

I walked to the bar and stood by the door guard and the femme, but they were distracted. After a minute I wandered into a corner, and the door woman followed me!

“Where do I know you from?” She asked.

“Well…do you know Jessica Cantor?”

“Yes.” Her eyes got big. “You’re a friend of Jessica’s?”

“Well, we’re not close friends…but I ran into you and her together at Machine.” (the largest monthly Boston Dyke Night) “Are you two still together?”

“No” she still seemed shook, “We broke up six months ago.”

We talked for a while and I followed her back to the bar.

I was trying to ask her if she was on Facebook when someone tapped me on the shoulder.

“What’s that?” A tall raggedy nordic-looking guy pointed at my shoulder where I have a Labris. It’s an “undercover” lesbian symbol tattoo. It’s kinda like rainbow rings before everyone knew what they are: Lesbians know, but the general public mostly doesn’t.

“What do you think it means?” This is my standard answer. If he seemed cool I would have hipped him to it, but he was giving me a creepy vibe. I turned back to my new friend.

It got later and I somehow I missed everyone leaving besides the door woman, Hope, the Latina Femme Yolanda, the bouncer and the two creepy men. Hope deflected their nasty advances with outgoing cheerfulness I could not match. A knot formed in my stomach at the thought of leaving at the same time with those guys, and I found myself reaching in my pocket for anything I could use as a weapon. As my hand closed my lighter (I could use it to reinforce a punch if I had to) the Mexican caught my eye.

“Don’t be scared.” He told me.

Continue this story with ” Just a Drink

1 Comment

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