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Better than the bar scene? Easily. |
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Why Can't People Be More Like Pets? |
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Every queer single must confront the most basic of issues—where am I going to meet Someone? The journey itself (oh, no I am sounding like a personal ad) is sometimes an end in itself. When you throw up you arms in despair, your pet (if you are a single lesbian you most assuredly have one) comforts you. At least my pet loves me and is loyal. You ask yourself, “Why can’t people be more like pets?”
I was fortunate enough to have a lover that was like my pet. It was definitely a case of Blue Oyster Cult’s song “Dominance/Submission.” She had placed a personal on Planet Out (before it became so trashy).
The thrust of this woman’s ad was that she was seeking a tennis partner. So I went shopping for tennis balls and donned my whites, and drove to her house. It was a warm day, and she was wearing a pair of long black jeans. I asked her won’t you be hot? When she sat me down to talk, it became clear to me that this person could no more play tennis, as she had MS, than I could work for Donald Trump!
We then grabbed a bite to eat and came back to her house to watch a football game. She undid her bra and told me she had done so, as I was glued to the TV. Afterall, it was the New York Jets and they come first. Now, don’t start telling me that I acted like a man. Sports can be universal in their appeal, and all genders can be rabid in their zeal.
She sat down next to me on the sofa bed, and asked me for a kiss, then later to spend the night. My interior dialog said, “I thought her headline was ''looking for friends?” At the same time. I was pleasantly shocked that this adorable woman wanted me. We embarked on a relationship that lasted a year and a half. I was enthralled by this little woman with the crooked smile. She had me at hello, and she finally had me at goodbye too. The relationship ended bitterly when she left me for her ex.
Stop! This is supposed to be a humor column. Excuse the morbidity, and try to see the absurdity of the situation. We have all been hurt and continue to play the game…or try anyway…which gets me back to the lesbian dating scene.
You’ve been left hanging with e-mails, people stop writing, they see your photo and puke, you get kooks and still you try. What if what Bryan Ferry of Roxy Music sang in the song “Mother of Pearl,” were true: “If you are looking for love in a looking glass world, it’s very hard to find.” You clamor in despair to Morissey of the Smiths singing, “I am human and I need to be loved.” Where else do you turn?
So you get fortunate and make some new friends over the Internet. You sustain their original rejection of you as a sex object, and settle for platonic friendship instead of romance. And through these friendships, you attend group functions. And whom do you meet? More people that rejected you over the Internet. At least I am making connections of some sort, I say to myself.
So the merry go round of dating goes on and on, just like the seasons in the Joni Mitchell song...
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