Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

A few days ago a woman who reads my blog on a regular basis sent me an email on myspace. Here’s what it said:

Hi, I read your blog everyday at work. I was curious about what you might look like so I sent you add request on here. Obviously. I don’t know what to say except that I find you extremely attractive, but I’m straight. I’m really very straight. But if I were ever to be with a woman I would hope it could be you.

OK …. so what do you do with that? Well here’s what my reply said:

Thanks.

I thought that would be that. But if it were do you really think I’d be telling you about it now? Of course not. So she continued to email me several times a day. As it turns out she seemed like a cool person, educated, pretty and well rounded. We had some stuff in common and I figured another friend is always good. But then she asked to meet in person.

We arranged to meet at a local bookstore the other day. About an hour after saying hello we were checking into the closest hotel. Before I knew it, it was midnight and I was ready to go home. She however, was under the impression that this was a slumber party. This is when my boy brain kicks in and I start looking for the fire escape. Damn it why did we have to be on the 10th floor?!

After explaining to her I had to get home for my dogs, she grudgingly moved to the side, no longer barring the door to my freedom. I only live 15 minutes from the hotel, yet somehow she managed to leave me 11 voice mails by the time I pulled into my driveway. So I called her back and found her panic stricken on the other end of the phone. She was hysterical. So like a dumb ass, I drove back to the hotel.

She was completely loopy over what had happened and what this meant for her. She was asking me a million questions I couldn’t answer for her. She was the only one who could tell if she was straight, gay, bi, whatever. But now she was putting this all on me as if my being the first woman she was ever with gave me some sort of responsibility over her now.

Oh great! My boy brain was going into overdrive and I seriously considered pretending like I didn’t speak any English. I realize that didn’t make much sense since I was speaking English all day long, but for a split second I thought if I just broke out in Russian or Farsi, she might be confused enough for a second that I could get away. Bad Sasha! I know. Don’t worry, the girl part of my brain told the boy part to stop being so boyish and by boyish I mean stupid.

So I tried to put my girl brain in the driver seat and attempted to be more comforting than usual. We talked and talked …. and then talked some more. (This really reinforced why I never cuddle.) I guess in some ways I do feel a little responsible. But she’s an adult and she initiated the whole thing. I don’t think I deserve to be blamed for seducing a willing party and making them question the foundation of their life.

I’m pretty sure she was already questioning it, otherwise why ever contact me, little lone follow through with the events that followed.

I don’t like feeling like a jerk for sleeping with a woman who literally begs me to. Am I supposed to feel guilty about making her very happy for a few hours? So happy she’s now questioning her sexuality? I don’t think any crime was committed. It’s not like this is Arkansas.

I’m well aware that she’ll be reading this and that’s good. I am what I am and she knew that. (She even gave me permission to write about this.) I write every day about my point of view on things. I admit my faults online for the whole world to see! What more can I do? Geez. Women are so much trouble.

So she’s now considering calling herself a lesbian and I’m left wondering … am I a jerk?

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