Wednesday Night Part 1: Green-Eyed Monster

Beautiful eye highlighted in green

I got to the club about halfway through the show. Scanning the room full of mature, well-dressed women of rainbow hues, I finally spotted my boo talking to a white, short-haired volluptuous femme in a cute black dress. (Damn I wanted that dress!)
Was that a faint guilty look in Noma’s eye as I approached?

I said hi to Noma, positioning myself between her and the femme. My boo was looking so fly in white sports jacket and tie against a crisp black shirt. I’ve never been a big fan of ties, (except for Bee Listy, she rocks the bow tie.) but now I’m starting to understand the appeal. She looked hot in that tie!

The femme started chatting gregariously with me, (re)introducing herself as Nancy. (I have a vague memory of meeting her at another event targeted towards black lesbians, which might have endeared her to me in other circumstances.)

Although I wanted nothing more than to say “back off bitch, this is my woman!” I attempted to return her conversation courteously, as:

A) Noma doubtless did not tell her we were together, seeing as she’s still unwilling to make any kind of commitment to me.

And B) She was probably a nice person, and under almost any other circumstances besides talking to my woman while wearing a sexier outfit than me I probably would have quite liked her.

Noma saved the day (or at least staved off a femme-fight) by offering me a drink, and we went to the bar.

Returning to the audience we watched a kick-ass drag queen throwing down some gospel, followed by a gorgeous poet doing some spoken word.

Nancy rejoined us in the middle of a particularly powerful piece to babble about how she needed to eat something. I restrained myself from telling her to get her (skinnier-than-my) ass some damn food already and detailing exactly what she could do with it.

Fortunately she left not too long after that, before my veneer of friendliness could wear thin.

“So I was telling Nancy that I’m really stepping out of my comfort zone, coming here.”  Noma confided.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, all my friends are white and into sports.”
“Well,” I said looking around the room at the multi-hued artistic types. “most of my friends are artists, or black, or both.”

I think that’s pretty normal, really. They do say opposites attract.

2 Comments

  1. This particular post links well with the blog Sarah M. recently put up on Sasha’s site. It touches on the femme vs. femme hostility and gives an inside perspective on what drives it.

    • I know. Notice that I published mine first?
      In the interest of Femme solidarity I would not even begin to suggest that she stole my idea. I’m also not the slightest bit jealous that she’s engaged to a cute guitar playing, blog-writing, motorcycle riding butch. Nope, not jealous at all 😉 (JK, seriously…well, maybe I’m a tad bit envious, but not jealous–the difference being that I want an accomplished fiancé of my own, not yours–in case you’re reading Sarah!)


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