(At a Lesbian Bar–What did you think I was talking about?)
I was feeling high and all kinds of excited because I was out at a straight club and this chick was feeling me! We were dancing to this hot local band and things were going good! When the music ended, I got her number and stumbled out into the night, not ready to go home yet.
I decided that I was feeling brave, feeling bold, so I made my way over to the local lesbian bar. (Yes, the tiny town of Fort Collins CO. has a Lesbian bar, but the big city of Boston does not.)
I was greeted at the door by a big butch woman who carded me gruffly, her glare alerting me to my likely reception once inside.
I strode by her blithely, greeted by unwelcoming glances and bad karaoke inside.
I sidled up to the bar and ordered a coke. The bar tender looked at me skeptically and carded me again. I showed her my ID (I was 24) and explained that I was trying to sober up for my drive home. (Which was true.)
She served me grudgingly, and I nursed my coke while a gaggle of butch/sporty women glared at me unwelcomingly from across the room. I was probably the only one in the whole place wearing a dress. (Long, formfitting, red.) I guess they figured I was a “curious” straight girl.
I finished my drink and payed my tab sadly. Not one person had smiled at me or seemed in the least bit friendly (or even attractive) the whole time I had been there. Maybe I could only attract Bi girls? I wondered to myself as I wandered out into the night.
I didn’t go to another Lesbian bar for five years.
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