bionicfemme

So we tried to get into our originally planned bar and for the FIRST time in my life the Fake ID didn't work. I was so depressed, because this club actually looked like one I would fit in at, and all the girls frequenting it were the hottest lesbians i'd ever seen in my life! It's cool though. In one month, i'll be legal and no bouncer in town can stop me.

After that defeat, we got into the Lexington Club. They had a really good jukebox, so I picked out all of the funniest/coolest songs I could find, including:
"One Minute Man" -Missy Elliot (C'mon, isn't that hilarious to play at a lesbian bar?)
"Baby Got Back" -Sir Mixalot
"Vogue" -Madonna
"Rebel Girl" -Bikini Kill
"You've got another thing comin'" -Judas Priest
"Barracuda" -Heart
"She blinded me with science" -Thomas Dolby

The last one went out to Sherry, an avid biochem major.

I got silly on a white Russian and to tell the truth, i'm a little afraid that I will become an alcoholic when I turn 21, because it's so prominent in my family. Also, I get EXTREMELY friendly, loving, and horny under the influence of alcohol and it could be very easy for someone to take advantage of me.

This chick, who was in her thirties, sat down with us and told us all about how the police beat her up so badly she couldn't move some of her fingers any more, all because she was black. Personally, I think she must have commited a crime because she was talking about subpoena (sp? i'm drunk.) papers and waking up on the street to see a man pouring chemicals onto her feet. She freaked me out a little. She kept asking me why I was a lesbian and saying that lesbians are just women who haven't had men and don't know any better. She said she was questioning women, that she wanted to know if she was gay.

To be truthful, if you really are gay, you just feel it in your instincts, what feels natural and what feels right. It's pretty apparent. I mean, I stole my dad's Playboys when I was 11. And I was insulted that she said lesbians just need to get guys, etc. In a way, our talk was refreshing.

I realized that even though I am struggling to try to fit in as a lesbian now, at least I am not having a sexual mid-life crisis later. At least I am not one of those women who has four kids and a husband and then realizes she's gay. It is rare for someone my age to know herself well enough to say, with pride and sincerity, that she is a lesbian. And i'm not afraid.

This shady woman asked us to take her home, and her home was smack dab in the heart of the Tenderloin. Sherry said yes because the woman offered her five dollars, which wasn't enough to risk our lives! She kept screaming to Sherry to drive her to a parking lot because she wanted to see our boobs. I thought she was joking at first, but we soon learned quickly she was serious. When we drove her home, she said she didn't want to get out because there was a police car in front of her house and she didn't want the police to see her. Then we drove up an alley blockaded by a dumpster. She seemed to be stalling for time, she kept rambling stories with her door open and we're in the middle of this alley, with a bunch of crackhead men approaching the car en masse.

"Sherry, I want to go home." I said. "I want to go home now."

The woman realized I was suspicious of her, got out of the car and left. But she gave Sherry the five bucks, and neither of us showed her our boobs.

I'm glad to be alive right now. When Sherry brought me home, the police were arresting a suspicious looking man outside of my building. Maybe, if I would have come home just a bit earlier, I would have been mugged.

My luck with dating might be bad, but my luck with death-defying seems to be good.

And now, gentle reader, the alcohol presses upon my eyelids, I need sleep.