It can be depressing being a lesbian. Wait, not just depressing but down right discouraging. I could go on and on about how there aren’t enough single, attractive lesbians running around but boo fucking hoo. Who hasn’t heard that a million times?
I’ve been feeling especially energetic lately (my euphemism for something a bit more tawdry) so I’ve been going out a lot lately. Tonight however was Sunday night. Not the best night to go trolling for a piece of pie. Yes I said trolling and yes I called it pie. But out of sheer boredom and the inability to stay in my house a moment longer I took off to this little hole in the wall dyke bar, Broadway. Or as Maggie referred to it, “Broadway is where old lesbians go to die.” Well this was my first time there and as usual, Maggie was uncomfortably correct.
I parked down the street so that I could casually stroll by and check it out. As I approached I saw two women smoking outside. They obviously saw me right away and started whispering to one another. Getting a high school flash back I acted like I wasn’t going there and veered left to the coffee shop across the street. But after a quick perusal of the goods the Library had to offer, I made a quick u-turn and headed back to Broadway.
Once I made my way through what was now about six intoxicated and smoking lesbians acting as impromptu gate keepers I meandered inside to see what this joint had to offer.
What it had to offer was a pool table where a gay man and a sunburned butch woman were playing. A tiny bar with a mix of straight-looking-truck-driver-type-old-men and even older truck-driver looking women. Oh and there was a tranny making out with a man who I am not entirely sure realized he was kissing another man. I didn’t even make it halfway down the bar when my tight turning radius came in handy and I made another U-eey and got the hell out of there.
On my way out a spotted a cute femme smoking on the side of the bar. I smiled at her but kept walking. She was cute but no fireworks. The fact that I didn’t feel the urge to even look back over my shoulder told me it wasn’t worth it.
I sat in my car a few moments looking at the dead streets of Long Beach and wishing I hadn’t wasted my gas on the drive to the graveyard. So I headed home, lady blue balls and all and waiting on my myspace page is a comment from Maggie that read: “Let me know what you uncover at the graveyard, also known as Broadway.” …. Um, yea. That about sums it up.
Well, you could look at it as a silver lining of sorts – not only do you live in a town where there is a bar for lesbians, but there is more than ONE bar for lesbians! Lesbians have niches! I find this fantastic.
I spent last night hanging out with old and middle aged dykes, and I found it fun, but they’re my Quire buddies. We had an end-of-year potluck party, and man, can these lesbians COOK! Haha.
By the way, I noticed your comment about myspace – I do have a myspace, and I’m pretty sure my username is judithavory. You are welcome to friend me, but I don’t really use it. I have problems with the format because people’s profile pages can be SO busy and full of videos and things that it really makes my computer go insane :-/