so i've just come out and am a little intimidated by the scene. remember we're reminiscing here.
(back then i was fresh meat so dyke clubs were a little too dykey for a girl who had only just realised why she got bored kissing intelligent, good looking, talented boys with good taste in music)
baby dyke. baby steps. so many steps.
so at a friend's party i meet this really hot lez couple who don't look like the girls with pool cues who scared me at the glassy. these girls are really cool and good looking and have asymmetrical hair and rockin clothes and piercings and killer tatts and like to talk about music that's not ani difranco. WOW.
i said NOT ani difranco... you've got enough fans. you don't need me anyways.
so we hit if off and i'm just rapt that i've met two confident gay girls who don't look like kd lang.
i said DON'T look like kd lang (mum reckons she is what lesbians look like)
so we're talking about bands and films and stuff and one of the girls (who seems to know a whole lot about lesbians and coming out and stuff) is paying me extra special attention because i'm wide eyed and am lapping up the "you-don't-have-to-look-gay-to-be-gay" spiel.
so here i am with my new hot-lezbo-couple friends who totally get my situation (nothing like bonding over a bit of internalised homophobia) and one of them has already entered my number in her phone and is really keen to hang out. awesome.
so anyways... over the next few weeks i do a lot of hanging out with that girl and am completely overwhelmed and smitten with all the attention i'm receiving... the text messages, the special 'moments' shared over the phone... the numerous offers to assist me with whatever i needed assistance with... and i do wonder what her girlfriend thinks about all this. it's dodgy. i'm not steering the ship but i'm not about to drop the anchor either. HELLO SAILOR.
soooo then one day... standing in the hall of my share house we talk in whispers... we stand close... we pash (at last) and it's hot... but it's not like it was never going to happen so i've already processed the guilt and have decided that my morals don't matter cos i was a teenager deprived (and oblivious to the hotness) of hot girl on girl action... so bring it. i have some hot catching up to do.
now let me cut to the getting busted part... which is why i'm telling you this story. the three of us (yes... me and the couple) head to a warehouse party and we're all pretty pissy. over the course of the night the girl (let's call her shane) keeps whispering suggestive things in my ear and touching me whenever her gf is out of sight. danger. hot. R-O-N-G. hot.
the plan was that i'd be crashing at their house (i'd ditched my car earlier in the night) so we'd all share a cab post party. which we did. when we arrive, shane's girlfriend retires early after a few music vids on rage. so this leaves me and shane on the couch... which was also my bed for the night...
so of course... the legs occasionally, coincidentally, more frequently brush against each other... the hand that was on your knee ever so slowly and slightly finds itself touching my knee. the gf is about 7 meters away in the bedroom. why does this make it hotter? dunno but it does. we kiss. we kiss in short passionate bursts listening for the sound of our third amigo. yikes. this is stupid. and we become less careful... caught up in the heat of it. and shane says 'follow me' and leads me (ever so quietly) to the garage out the back.
and we (ever so quietly) lift the roller door... and lower it once we're in.
lips collide. hands clutch. clothing falls. bodies click.... EARS LISTEN.
and then shane says 'did you hear that?' and we both stop (breathing) and listen. beat beat beat beat beat beat beat (as in two THUMPING hearts). AND shane's girlfriend pulls up the garage door to see her girlfriend and that baby dyke... frozen, semi naked, up against the car. BUSTED. and she piffs something (i can't remember if it was house keys or a mobile phone) at shane... and yells something (i think the trauma of the ordeal has erased it from my memory) and then bolts off... and shane sprints off after her.
and i'm left standing outside their house contemplating my next move. i'm pissed. my car is here. if i leave i'm gutless. but they need to sort shit out. but i'm accountable. fuck.
so i go back inside to the couch which is my bed and lie down. and then sometime later the two of them come back and there's yelling and crying and pleas for forgiveness and i go to leave but i'm told to stay... so i stay on the couch and imagine i'm somewhere else as their world collapses around me.
and then later... after the yelling has stopped... shane comes over and cries and strokes my head and tells me that she loves her girlfriend.
and i leave at first light.
yup... so that's when i got busted. formative much?
they make tv shows about this stuff: