Why Bisexual Women Have a Bad Rep.

The LGBT Center

So after my recent promiscuity, I decided to do some soul searching. Well, really sexuality searching.

Is it possible to be attracted to both men and women equally at the same time? I seem to have no problem with that, although at the moment I’m preferring women over men. Is that normal? According to AfterEllen there are categories to bisexuality. I wanted to see if these categories existed in the flesh.

After bribing Cindy with dinner, I recruited her to come with me to a meeting at The Center.

You can’t miss The Center. It’s that big building on 13th with the rainbow flag. It’s also the one with all the gay couples arguing, talking, and dancing in front of it. You really can’t miss it.

Cindy and I walked in the front door and asked the girl at the desk where the bisexual womens’ meetup was.

She looked up from her paper up at us and eyed us up and down. She shook her head. It was one of those looks that blast right through you and scoff you at the same time. “Second floor, first right,” she said and then continued to read her paper.

When Cindy and I entered the meeting we were surprised to find several attractive women of all ages. There were about 20 of them. Sitting in the front of the room in the middle was an older, attractive blond woman. Cindy and I took a seat near the rear of the circle.

“Hi I’m Jane. I hold these meeting every other week. On the weeks in between I hold what I refer to cuddle parties at my apartment, and I hope you all stop by. It’s free love and we’re OK with orgies. So next week every one is invited OK? So why are you here?” the woman asked casually gesturing to one very frightened and youngish observer. “Because you are bisexual and you either sleep with both men and women or are attracted to both. Some people feel that unnatural. That you are either gay or straight. What are your thoughts?” she asked the girl sitting cross-armed next to her.

“I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer this question,” she said. “I’m not gay or bi-sexual,” she stated.

“So you are straight?” Jane asked raising an eyebrow (Snickers and looks from several girls).

“No, I’m, well, undefined,” she said nodding.

One of the other girls interrupted. “Why do you have to define your sexuality at all? It’s like just a piece of you and not the whole puzzle,” she stated.

“Because it is part of you and people like to categorize,” Jane said.

“You,” she said pointing to Cindy. “What do you consider yourself?”

“Uhhhhh. I’m actually here with her,” she said gesturing toward me. “Not, with her, but here with her as a friend. I’m a lesbian. No doubt there,” Cindy added.

“OK. I get it you don’t date bi-girls,” Jane retorted sarcastically. “Lesbians have this thing against bi-girls, ladies.”

“Hey, I don’t have a thing against them,” Cindy said. “In fact, I’ve had a great time pressing up against them if you catch my drift, but right now I’m looking for something serious, which means I’m looking for another lesbian to love. I don’t want the woman I’m dating to run off with a man just because she’s unsure,” she said defending herself.

“Yeah, whatever. So what are you?” Jane asked tilting her head toward me.

“I’m more of a who rather than a what,” I responded. “I’m Ruby, and I guess I’m bi.”

“Ruby, do you like having sex with women as much as men or do you think that with men it’s kind of rough and dirty. I always thought sex with men was dirty, but it’s also fun,” Jane said.

“Errrr. Well, I like sex with both and I really don’t think about it being dirty, I guess,” I said. “I guess ultimately I’m just looking to meet that one person who will be my everything, as cheesy as that sounds, regardless of gender.”

“Well, that idealistic,” Jane said. “I don’t think bi-sexuals can be really committed,” she continued.

“Jane, that’s bullshit” said another woman in the circle. “I’m bisexual and have been happily married for 15 years to the same woman. “

The conversation continued for a while and Jane made more of the younger girls uncomfortable by asking them what sexual positions they liked, if they practiced safe sex, if they used vibrators and so on. Jane also went on to insult transgenders, butch women and, well, pretty much everyone. It was a real cozy, nice to meet you type of group meeting.

It seemed to me that everyone in the group was great, except Jane, who had some sort of chip on her shoulder. It was also ashamed that she had scared half of the young bi-curious women in the meeting away by putting them on the spot. Many of them had never slept with women, but were anxious about taking that step. Here was Jane to freak them out by inviting them to an orgy at her house. She was like a preditor ready to deflower the curious.

After the meeting was over, Jane approached me and Cindy. “I hope you’ll be back or I see you next week,” she said looking at me more than Cindy.

“Oh yeah, next week I’m kind of busy, but I’ll be back here,” I answered, not totally sure I was going to be back at all.

“We gotta run,” Cindy said. “I promised this girl that Ruby and I would fuck her together around 8 so we’re going to be late as it is,” she said pulling me away. “It’s been great learning experience. Really.”

Cindy and I left The Center laughing. “Women like her,” Cindy started, ” are why all bi-sexual women have bad reputations.” - Ruby

Why are you in a Gay Bar?

Why do straight people go to gay bars?  I love this rant.

Here’s one for the straight ladies too by Ms. Lilly Allen.

-Ruby

Stalling

So, I never understood what was so exciting about hooking up in a bathroom. That was until I did.

Yes, it was cramped and the toilet got in the way, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

So, I have been going to Equinox for a while now and I recently changed my workout time to avoid Kerry, who apparently is dating one of the other guy-teachers at the gym. Figures. This being the case, I switched from doing yoga on a regular basis to running on the treadmill and lifting weights.

It’s amazing how many different people you can meet on a daily basis just by varying your routine. One of those people was a short blond bombshell named Barbie, who would often show up to run on the treadmill at the same time I did.  Not surprisingly, Barbie and I got into the habit of running together and discussing the latest episodes of True Blood amoung other things. Also, not surprisingly,  Barbie had a boyfriend.

On this particular day, as we were running and discussing Sookie and Sam’s latest adventures, Barbie’s boyfriend called and she aptly answered and popped off of the treadmill to take his call. I ran for about 20 more minutes and decided it was time for a bathroom break.  I entered the womens’ locker room and the bathroom, which was in an adjacent room. No one was in the bathroom besides Barbie, who was standing by the mirror.

“I had hoped you would come,” she said almost breathlessly.

“Sure,” I replied a little clueless.

She looked at me expectantly. As I walked toward her, her blue eyes got wider and she had one of those looks on her that could have only meant she wanted me to kiss her.

I put my arms around her and she responded almost too quickly, backing into a bathroom stall and kissing me all at once. I fumbled with the lock on the stall as I groped and kissed Barbie.

“They’re implants,” she said.

“I would have never known,” I lied and continued to kiss her neck and breasts.

Things escalated at a rapid pace. Barbie started grinding me against the door and then I pushed her back toward the corner in passion, accidentally almost throwing her into the toilet. But it didn’t matter. We were sweating and kissing and our bodies were moving together. She sighed softly. She had an orgasm, just by grinding. I unbuttoned her pants and went to go down on her for round two.

“No,” she whispered and then pushed my head toward her.

Barbie wasn’t a novice with girls either, I found out.

However, during our romp in the stall, we were interrupted. Someone entered.  They went into the next stall and began peeing. It was one of those long Austin Power pees. We froze and tried not to giggle. Barbie’s face was turning red.  I wanted to burst out laughing.When the person in the next stall left, another entered. We knew our time was up.

Barbie and I tried to straighten out. I adjusted my top and quickly exited the stall. Barbie wasn’t quite ready and quickly shut the door behind me.

I went toward the sink. And there, staring at me, was Kerry.

“Hey,” she said.

“Oh, hi,” I answered uncomfortably as I scrubbed my hands. I grabbed a paper towel and wiped my face.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s O.K.,” I said praying that she would just leave before Barbie came out of the stall.

But she just stood there watching me sadly, deciding what to say.

“I miss you,” she started.

Barbie walked out of the stall and over to the sink.  She washed her hand and patted some water on her face. “Wow. What a workout! See you tomorrow, Ruby.” With that Barbie, winked, and turned and left the bathroom.

I couldn’t help but smile. Barbie was so damn hot.

Kerry’s mouth hung agape. She blushed. “Oh my god,” she whispered. She shook her head and followed Barbie out of the bathroom. – Ruby

Reading Too Far Into It?

Usually by this time of year, we have already enjoyed a few evenings spending a carefree after work happy hour at a rooftop bar somewhere in Manhattan. This rain, cloudy weather, and fog have not made such locales very appealing. The RD Partners crew was looking to have going away drinks for an associate who was accepted into the MBA program at Harvard. We became optimistic a few days ago, as the rain had subsided and the sun was now teasing us with a game of hide and seek. With high hopes we headed over to Dream Hotel’s Ava Lounge

I ordered my Tanqueray and Tonic when Kayla started in again about me staying with the firm.

“C’mon, Frankie; Eileen is not going to return from maternity leave and you fit so well within our firm.  Pllllllleeeeeeaaase don’t make me jump on the assistant search with a recruiting firm!”, she pleaded.

“You don’t want me working with you permanently.  I drink way too much during happy hour; it would be most beneficial to find an assistant who doesn’t drink as much”, I joked.

“Hellloo, that is one of the many reasons why you must stay!  It’s summer and we have much more happy hour bonding to do!”, cracked Kayla.

Yitzchak, a VP, asked, “Well what do you want to do?  Please don’t tell me that you are thinking of reentering publishing?  You will be committing career suicide!”

I saw that this was going to become a serious debate, though I must stand firm on my decision.  “I know where I belong.  If the industry is suffering, then what a great time to be involved.  The learning experience will be priceless”.

“I can respect that,”  said Cole as he walked up from behind me.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.  At least someone is on my side,” I joked.

“Well,” began Kayla as she looked from Cole to me and back again,”searching for a job within publishing isn’t the only thing that Frankie is up to.”

Everyone was sort of puzzled except me.  I thought, “Oh please, not in front of Cole.  Oh no, please don’t say it.”

“Frankie”, Kayla continued, “is already working on writing projects.  She writes a funny little dating blog.”

Oh yes, there it was.  She said it in front of the guy who I was crushing on.  Oh the red fire in my cheeks; why must I blush so deeply?!

“Oh really?”, “A…dating blog?”, “Tell us!” were the synchronized responses.

How should I approach this one?   Here I go, giving it a shot, “Well, yes, it is a joint venture with my roommate Ruby.  We chronicle our funny dating stories through a blog.  It is entertaining and, I will admit, therapeutic for Ruby and me”.

“That’s great.  Can we read it??”, asked Yitzchak.

“Yes, we want to read it!  That is cool”, added Cole

“Well, boys it is a bit risque.”, added Kayla.

Looking for a save, I said, “You may fire me after reading it and I can’t afford to lose my job right now without a lead, thanks!”

“On the contrary Frankie, we may promote you, if it’s that good of a read!”, chuckled Yitzchak.  He continued,”Try this whiskey.  It’s called Woodford Reserve and it is tasty.”

“No thanks,” I replied, “if I mix that with my Tanqueray, then we will all be sorry.  Whiskey and I are not very good friends.”  Though truthfully, I couldn’t help but think about how my crush now knows that I document my love life online.  I thought about how he wants to read me (well, the blog), which is a good sign, though I still can’t read him.  Yitzchak continued to push the whiskey, though I wanted no part of that action at all.    “Fine,  I don’t want your lips touching my glass anyway.  Considering you write a dating blog…who knows where those lips have been”, Yitzchak cracked.

“Well, at least I know my lips have much more fun than yours, you old, married coot!,” I retorted, laughing as I tapped his glass with mine and initiated a group toast.

Our group erupted into a loud, resounding, “WHOOOOOOOOOAA!!!!”, “Dude she got you good!”  I met Cole’s gaze as everyone stood enjoying the respite from the dreary weather.  I held those captivating blue eyes, that were now beginning to read me.

Baring it all

After a half a week of heartbreak, a box of Lucky Charms, 2 pints of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, and about a million re-runs of the L-Word, I was ready to hit the  gym again.

Besides working, the gym had become part of my routine and I wanted to keep it up. I started running on the treadmill at times I knew Kerry wouldn’t be teaching yoga. I hadn’t called her back; mostly because I didn’t know what to say to her. Kerry’s calls were becoming  sparse. That was OK by me. Even though I missed our conversations and being around her, I knew this seperation had to be for the best for both of us.I wanted to feel wanted, sexually. Something I had wanted but would never feel with Kerry.

And wanted is exactly what I got, but completely by accident.

My brother was having his 23 birthday party at a strip club with some of his friends. Being the, “cool” sister that I was I headed over to Ricks in midtown to check out the scene.  My brother and his friends were drinking at the bar and watching the girls. Well gawking is more like it.  But they were more like terrified boys. The girls were dancing for money and asking if they wanted lap dances, but the guys weren’t getting that. They thought this might as well have been free.

“Guys,” I said, handing my brother ten bucks, “You have to tip them.”

“Er, like how. I dunno how to do that,” said one of the boys. “I’d pay to see you do it though,” he laughed. Five of his friends laughed along with him.

“Yeah, right,” my brother said. “Like you’d tip a stripper.”

“Why not? Fine with me,” I said. “Give me some cash.”

I, of course, wound up with twenty one dollar bills ( thanks to the young company) and took toward the stage with dough in hand not knowing exactly how to tip a stripper in what appeared to be a club full of mostly men staring at naked women. When I got to the stage, I noticed one other dressed woman there at the bottom of the stage, who looked similar to Kerry, but a little fuller (although not overweight).

As I stood watching the woman dance above me and wondered how to give them the cash this Kerry look-a-like inched closer to me. “Hey,” she said and smiled. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” I admitted.

“Do you mind if I show you?” she said and with that she held up a few dollars and a stripper came over to her and she popped a dollar into her panties slowly.

“Ah. ha!,” I said nodding.

“So, you ready?” she asked and winked.

“Yeah,” I mimicked her and held out a few dollars and when the stripper came over she knelt down and leaned very close. I put a dollar in her bra, which was already quite stuffed with dollars. She smiled and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“Now,” laughed the Kerry look-a-like. “That is new.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“They’re not supposed to touch you,” Kerry look-a-like stated. “And we are not supposed to touch them unless invited. Now, I’m guessing that’s an invitation.”

“Uhhhhhhh for what?” I asked.

“Oh, wow. You really are adorable,” she said staring at me. “And you smell good too.”

” Er. Thanks,” I replied, a bit amazed that she seemed to be coming onto me.

As we were doling out dollar bills to the strippers, I found out the Kerry look-a-like’s name was Cheryl and, like me, she was into girls.

The stripper up on stage that had kissed me on the cheek kept coming back over to Cheryl and me and as I was popping a dollar in her glittering purple panties this stripper grabbed me and kissed me. Cheryl, stood there shocked and started laughing at me locking lips with the stripper.

Without thinking I grabbed the Kerry-look-a-like’s hand and started kissing her softly. She kissed back and the fact that we were in a strip joint didn’t even seem to matter. I couldn’t help, but remind myself while kissing her that it wasn’t really Kerry. The stripper didn’t seem to be doing her job quite right, as she had gotten off of the stage and started kissing both of us. So, naturally when you have three women kissing and groping each other in a male strip joint, we became the show instead of the catwalk of strippers working their stuff above us. It didn’t take long before the security guards came over and escorted the stripper back to her post and asked us to back away from the stage.

Remembering my brother was there and was with his friends, I exchanged numbers with Cheryl hastily and ran over to his group where he stood completely mortified.

“Dude, your sister is sooooo cool,” one of the guys said.

“That was soooo hot,” another one of his friends said.

Seeing my brother’s expression of surprise and shock, I said,”I think it’s time for another round of beers boys.” - Ruby

Back to the Future…Again

It seems that no ones Memorial Day Weekend turned out being the love fest we hoped. I made my way up to Kitattinny with the old skool crew, though Tater proved to not be as satisfying as I hoped. We pitched our tents (yes, actual tents), built our fire, began cooking, and cracked open the poison of choice. Keeping with the weekend of nostalgia, I chose an oldie but goody…Hennessy.

//

We laughed, drank, reminisced, gorged on cheese balls and party mix from Costco economy size containers and after six hours of straight indulgence I was not feeling too well; it was time for me to retire to the tent that I pitched. I lay down under my furry blue blanket, trying to keep warm, when I heard the tent door flap unzip. “Oh no,” I thought, “can’t I simply fall asleep?! I feel so terribly ill. Damn, that Henny bites back. Thank goodness this is an eight person tent…Oh…”. Tater ducked in, kicked off his boots and crawled in beside me, wrapping me in his arms from behind. “It has been a long time Frankie”, he said, stating the obvious, “let’s finish what we started.” Jeez, I felt ill and managed only an “Mmhmmmmm”, through clenched teeth and tightly shut lips. His hand moved slowly between the blankets and under my hoodie to my abdomen, stroking above my bellybutton. It was now not a question if I would barf…rather…when? One small heave, which Tater interpreted incorrectly. “Oh yea, baby, I’ve wanted to make you tremble again,” he revealed. I pushed up from under Tater and through the open tent flap, which he forgot to zip shut, and ran away from our site, behind a tree, and allowed nature to take its course.

The rest of our camp roared with laughter and cracked, “It’s ok Frankie! He makes us feel like puking all the time!!” “Nice goin’ Tater, seems like you have that effect on the women folk” “Some things never change!!” “Play on playa!!!!!” Chuckle, Chuckle, Teehee, Teehee. All the burned Tater could reply was, “Ah, Shuddup, Bro!  Whadevah”.   I returned from behind the poor maple tree of choice, fell onto bended knee and did my best Mary Katherine Gallagher SUPERSTAR! impression and received thunderous applause from my audience. After brushing my teeth, all I remember from that evening is the crackle of the fire and the cozy, furry blanket that kept me warm from the cool, May mountain air. I felt much better and had to laugh at the entire chain of events.

Tater stayed at a clear distance from any romantic pursuits for the remainder of the weekend, which I did not mind at all and this time spent with my former hellions exceeded my expectations.  Sitting around with old friends reminiscing and acting silly.  Rafting down the Delaware River. Cliff jumping into the freezing river water.  Good times and more great memories.

Kindly enough, Sasha and Derek dropped me off in Manhattan on Monday.  This was a bit unusual, as many Staten Islanders hate making their way into…THE CITY!

I couldn’t wait to share the funny stories of mischief and mayhem in the woods, though instead walked in and found a Ruby shaped mound on the sofa, swaddled in a green fleece throw.  Her packed bag still sitting at the door of our apartment, a huge mixing bowl containing only remnants of Lucky Charms, and a menu for the L word DVD showing on the television screen, Ruby lay sleeping and this is how I left my friend.

Poor Ruby, she will still not move from the sofa unless it is time for work (well, sometimes; she still has a few sick days) or to change the DVD to another season of Buffy or the L word. I walked in one night and noticed that she was finally sleeping again, though upon closer inspection also drooling on a throw pillow…ugggg. Kerry has been ringing Ruby’s phone constantly since the Memorial Day fiasco and I was just at my wit’s end. This girl not only offended Ruby, though broke her heart as well, and is now harassing her. Revenge may be sweet, though I certainly am not; this bitch was going to pay.

When you play with fire…

Kerry and I arrived at Cherry Grove in Fire Island Sat. afternoon.  Kerry let me decide where we should spend Memorial Day weekend, and I chose Fire Island because if I had any chance with Kerry (if she was the slightest bit interested at all) I figured it would be where  homosexuality was openly accepted.

We dropped our bags off at the Grove Hotel and headed out to the beach in our bikinis. I had packed a picnic in a backpack and laid it out on a blanket on the sand. Two  sandwiches, Sun Chips and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. We stretched out in the sun, laughed and chatted.

At one point I was laying down on my side. Kerry reached over and put her hand on my cheek. She pushed me over onto my back and leaned forward over me. so she was looking into my eyes directly. They were like heavy and anxious, waves before a storm. I couldn’t help it.  She was too serious. I laughed and started to tickle her.  She fell on top of me in hysterical laughter. “Ruby,” Kerry started to explain and backed up after she caught her breath.” I want to. I really do. I just don’t know if I can. I… “

“I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to do,” I interrupted, laughing still. “Besides have fun, and I know that’s just about impossible to do with me.”

“That’s not the problem,” she said and smiled one of those smiles that just lit me up inside.

Later that night we went out to the bar across the hotel pool where there was a DJ playing music. We were dancing and singing Katie Perry when two girls came up to us at the bar.

“Hey ladies. Lovely evening,” an attractive but a bit intimidating butch said, “You with her?” she continued as she nodded toward Kerry.

“No,” I answered.

“Yes,” Kerry answered at the same time and threw her arm around my waist.  “What do you mean no? How long has it been honey? Six months?”

“Um. Well I’ll let you work that out,” the butch said laughing and left. Kerry glared at me. ” Don’t you ever do that again,” she said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Leave me hanging like that,” Kerry fixing her bikini top and the  sweatshirt she had over it.

“Whatever,” I said. “I wanna dance.”

We were both pretty drunk by this point. Lady Gaga’s Poker Face was on, the bar was thumping and Kerry’s hands were on my waist and back. My hands were around her waist and one was on her butt. I wanted her. I could feel her breath on my face. She ran her hand across my breasts either purposely or accidentally (I couldn’t tell which). My lips were on her neck. I went to kiss her neck, but she turned away and two other girls from the crowd came up to us and started dancing with us.

One of the girls was grinding against Kerry’s back and groping her from behind.  Kerry didn’t seem to mind and then saw me in front of her dancing with another girl, not as flirtatiously. It was like she had been launched out of a catapult. She was across the floor in an instant with her arms around my shoulder and waist, clinging to me. Her skin was soft and sweaty. “I want to go back to the room,” she whispered.

So we did. Kerry went to the bathroom for a very long time, so I changed into my pjs and hopped into one of two beds we had in the room and turned on the TV. When Kerry returned from the bathroom she hopped in the other bed and fell asleep fast. Too fast it seemed. I got out of bed and laid down next to her. She didn’t budge. When I woke up. She was already on the beach.

At breakfast I confronted her. “I’ve been thinking and I’d like to be with you,” I said. “I want to be with you too,” Kerry said. “But I don’t think I can do the lesbian thing and you are such a great friend. I don’t want to blow that. Can’t we just leave things as they are?”

I felt hurt and betrayed. How could I tell Kerry that I couldn’t be another minute around her wanting to kiss her? It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t even look at other girls because I felt like I was committed to Kerry. It wasn’t fair to me and it wasn’t fair to her. “You either want to be with me or you don’t. It’s just that simple,” I stated with gritted teeth.

“Then I guess I don’t,” she retorted. “Even if I were to sleep with a girl it’d probably be with someone hotter than you.”

“Fine, glad we got that ironed out,” I said shocked and hurt. We took the next ferry back and drove home, but mostly in silence. I couldn’t concentrate. I felt tortured. I felt hurt and heartbroken too.  I felt duped and most of all disapointed. Kerry has called me every day since then; several times.  I haven’t called her back yet though. I don’t know if I will. – Ruby

Thing, Fling, or Dating?

I was feeling a bit guilty about being so frank with Ruby regarding her relationship…or rather thing, with Kerry; though as her roommate and more importantly her friend it is my job to protect her. She is going to be hurt, I know this. She and Kerry decided to plan a jaunt out to Fire Island together over Memorial Day weekend. I saw the hope for an exclusive lover in Ruby’s eyes and heard the denial of a beautiful disaster in her voice as she described their plans.

“Well,” I began, “You know how I feel Ruby. She is going to hurt you. Even if you do progress into something more than this thing that you have now, are you really comfortable with being an experiment?”

“I love her, Frankie, and I must risk my heart because right now this entire situation is destroying my sanity,” reasoned Ruby.

“That makes sense, I see your point. Though please be careful…remember what happened with Ellen and Anne Heche.” I warned.

“Yes, of course,” Ruby answered,“Ellen wound up with Portia di Rossi, that hot piece of ass.”

I laughed,”Again, I see your point! Well, good luck pursuing your possible almost lover or a hot piece of ass who will soothe your hurting heart. You know that I am always going to support you no matter the outcome. I am off to Brooklyn for a Costco run for this weekend’s camping trip.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re going camping with your old crazy Staten Island crew. Wild on the Delaware River!! You better be a bit cautious as well, Mother Hen. Isn’t Tater going to be there?”, asked Ruby.

“HA! Tater. I haven’t seen him in ages. Yes, he will be there, though he has a girlfriend. You know that I am not down with OPP.”, I reminded Ruby.

Tater was a former…thing of mine. Just as Kerry was this indescribable thing to Ruby, it had been about eight years ago since Tater, or Paul, and I dated. Poor Paul inherited the nickname Tater when, as a chubby kid our friends decided that he resembled a tater tot. Yes, cruel then, though eventually Paul outgrew the excess weight and the cruel moniker, to become quite the cutie. He worked hard to win me over and did eventually, though bad timing kept us from a substantial relationship. Through the years, we would make out if we wound up at the same party…or camping trip…

“Riiiiiiiight.  There is no chance that he is single?  He is a player, though would make a great weekend partner for exploration within the forest,” Ruby winked.  “As long as those memories don’t allow old feelings to overcome your fun factor.”

I pondered Ruby’s point for a moment and concluded that I was jumping to conclusions.

My phone rang and I saw that Sasha was calling.  “What’s up Momma?”, I answered.

“Frankie!  You sound the same!  ARE YOU READY FOR CAMP KITTATINNY?!?!?!?“, asked an excited familiar man’s voice.

“Ta–Paul,” I corrected myself , “What are you…”

“Oh I am meeting you at Costco with Sasha and Derek”, replied my former flame.  “What is a true Kittatinny reunion camping trip without a pre-party Costco run?”

I thought for moment, looking at Ruby, who was performing an excited, my friend is hooking up this weekend dance, as I spoke, “Oh Paul, great minds think alike.  You’re a man after my own heart. I am leaving now, see you in a bit.”

“Great Babe,” he said before hanging up.

“Yes,” said Ruby, “it never hurts to have a bit of help pitching a tent.” –Frankie

Love Lockdown

Kerry and I went out again last night to The Galway Hooker– which is just a great name for a bar.  As for what’s happening with Kerry, I’m, well,  down right confused and quite bitter.

First of all, you might be thinking, well she’s bi-sexual so it’s no wonder she’s confused because she can’t figure out her own sexuality. In reality, that’s not the whole story. At least from my perspective. Mind you, Kerry and I always have a great time together because we are great friends, but our situation together is getting more confusing now that Country Club is out of the picture; for obvious reasons starting with my liquor cabinet and ending with the contortions  (mentally and physically) I put myself into over Kerry.

Yes, I have a crush on Kerry. A big one. In fact, I really am in love with her. BUT I didn’t sleep with Kerry while she was in my bed. I didn’t do anything, except well maybe pine and hope a bit that she would sober up enough to realize how great I’d be for her. However, she wound up stumbling out of bed and threw up all over my floor the next morning. So needless to say that’s not exactly what I had planned.

So for the past couple weeks I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what Kerry and I have. Is it a friendship or is it something more? I haven’t come up with much but here it is.

Con-relationship

• Kerry is straight.
• She dates men
• She has sex with men
• She says she can never be with a woman
• She doesn’t kiss me
• She doesn’t make any moves on me
• She flirts with guys

Pro-relationship

• She’s never been with a girl, but she was openly distraught when I started seeing Country Club
• She gives me free, private yoga lessons
• She practically lives at my apt
• She does my laundry
• She buys me clothing
• She reads my journal
• We talk openly about everything
• She talks about ” us” when referring to plans with friends
• We plan dinner dates every week
• She gets jealous of men or women that I talk to
• She wants to go on vacation with me
• She does not like it when I talk t0 other men or women in bars

O.K. well you might be wondering about the last one and why my Pro’s are starting to outweigh the cons besides the fact that I’m biased. (Those  cons are pretty heavy by the way). You might wonder why it sounds like we are in a relationship, but not having sex. I am too.

So we went to The Galway Hooker. Kerry bought me a beer and we started talking about work when this guy came up to us who wasn’t half- bad looking.

“So ladies, do you live in the city?” he asked, which meant he was a tourist, of course.

“Actually,” Kerry started, “I’m a missionary from South Africa and I’m here to visit an old friend,” she finished.

“For real,” inquired Sir Gullible.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Absolutely,” and took a drink of my beer.

By the end of the night Sir Gullible was speaking quite closely to Kerry, and I was speaking quite closely to some random man half my age, whom I will refer to as Dude. When Dude tried to buy me a drink, twenty or so minutes  after Sir Gullible bought both of us one, Kerry decided it was time to go. “Thanks, but I think we’ve had enough,” she said and gave me a look that meant, ‘You are in trouble.’ Mind you, I had had two beers, and it doesn’t take much, but she was really overreacting.  She grabbed my hand, pulled me off the stool and started toward the door with me.

“Why?” asked Sir Gullible as he chased Kerry dragging me away through the crowd. He then attempted to kiss her goodnight.

As he tried to kiss her, Dude ran up in front of me even though I wasn’t going to impede on Kerry’s opportunity to meet available men. (I had pretty much resigned myself to the role of the friend at this point; even though I was unhappy about it.) So, Dude tried to kiss me goodnight.  I thought, well, I’ve been chatting with him and no one else is going to kiss me tonight so why the hell not? It doesn’t matter anyway. Does it? Apparently, it did.

Kerry didn’t kiss Sir Gullible, but stared at me while I gave a brief kiss to Dude in the bar. She grabbed my hair and yanked me out of the bar, “What are you doing?!” she yelled.

“What do you mean?!” I yelled back, startled.

We both stared at each other silently and confused for a minute as we walked in silence toward the subway.

“We need to plan that vacation together,” Kerry said and walked up toward me.

“Oh, well, do you think that will help?” I asked defensively.

“That might clarify some things,” she said. “Yes, I think. It would be good if we had some time alone together.”

“O.K. so let’s do it,” I answered.

Kerry and I went back to my place. She fell asleep in my bed. I couldn’t sleep. I was too wound up and sexually frustrated. I sat down in the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine with Frankie.

“I’m going to burst. I wish she would stop sending me all of these mixed messages,” I said. “I just really wish I could be with her.”

“I hate to say it girl, but in the end, you lose,” Frankie said while raising her wine glass. “Kerry is straight. I think she wants to be with you, but she just can’t. Honestly, I don’t know why. I can see she really, sincerely, loves you.  And I know you can’t be everything you want to be to her even though I bet you love her. But, here’s to you and Kerry anyway…and the others who will follow in both of your lives .” - Ruby

To ASSociate or Not to ASSociate…

On this evening marking  Barack Obama’s 100th day as president, I sit in my bedroom on my laptop looking back on my first nine days since setting my life back on track. I have no one to nurse, no one to worry about comforting, no one, that is except for myself.  This is my show…working with the hand that I have been dealt; which is much better than Barack Obama’s.  I have a job, an apartment, the most supportive friends;  I have a life.

The girls at RD Capital Partners welcomed me back and filled me in on the most recent firm gossip over lunch at Chopt.  Which VP was now married and may begin a family soon.  Which member of the accounting team became so drunk at last year’s RD Capital Team Conference that she fell into the bonfire; and then attempted to pick up one of the hot associates.  Oh, yes, and speaking of that particular associate, he was looking quite tasty according to Sarah and Kayla.

“Yes, Frankie you missed a bit.  I know you were a taken woman when you last worked with us, though Cole is now single as well”, smiled Kayla.

Cole was a cute, young associate who had mesmerizing blue eyes and golden blond hair, which was cut perfectly short.  Though I would serve as the assistant to a principal, another associate, and Cole, I had not yet seen this cutie.

“Why haven’t either of you chased him then?”, I asked.

“Well, I have my own guy who has been on my mind; actually I would like to ask you what you think.  I met a hot Aussie, which we must discuss…though after filling you in on Cole.”, said Kayla

“Yes, and well, I don’t date colleagues,”  Sarah chimed in.

“Ah, what a coincidence,” I began, ” neither do I.  He sits four offices down from my cubicle and if I am supporting him as his assistant, I can’t, well, you know…ahem…support him, um, in other ways.  We all remember what happened to those kids at the advertising agency, now don’t we?”, I said; barely finishing the sentence before busting out laughing.

“Stop that!”, pleaded Kayla, “We should make a pact so no one dies from choking on our food while eating and sharing funny stories.  Breathe, chew, swallow, speak.”

Sarah and I looked at each other and couldn’t help busting out laughing.  “Oh you are both perverts!”, yelled Kayla.

“We didn’t say anything, though you are obviously right down in the mental gutter playing with us!”, I accused,”Let it rain!”

Back at the ranch, er, office, sitting at my desk, I heard Sarah greet Cole, as he walked in.  He looked around the corner and saw me and asked,”Hey Frankie!  How are you?”

If the financial sector was suffering, then you wouldn’t know it by looking at him.  He looked different.  Same features, though much more attractive.  Much more…manly.  It may sound cliche, though was he working out more often?  He looked like he should be sailing on The Cape and spending summers at The Vineyard.  I could have ripped him from a Polo advertisement.  If  Helen launched one thousand ships, then Cole could certainly save the economy.

Kayla was watching from her cube, located next to me, and grinning to herself pretending to work on a partner’s itinerary.

“Great to have you back, Frankie,” continued Cole.

“Happy to be here, Cole,” I replied,”Quite fortunate actually.  Need help with anything?”

“No, I’m all set.  Thank you.”

I took him in for a moment longer than one should.

“Excellent,” I snapped out of it,”Well, let me know if you need anything at all.”

“Will do, thanks”, replied Cole, walking away with a smile that could light Times Square, and the bridges, tunnels…yes, you get it.

“Well you are a darker shade of scarlet, Frankie!”, observed Kayla.

“It’s the Irish skin…Kayla O’Rourke; you should be quite familiar with its tendency to burn,” I replied defensively and took a sip of my mango nectar.

“HMMMM,” thought Kayla”,…I wonder if Cole burns.  You know, last year Mack (a partner) held a barbecue at his home.  Cole looked smashing in his swim trunks…”

I spit out the tasty beverage and coughed furiously, as mango nectar shot out of my nose, “The rules still apply!!!!!!”, laughing.

No, this deal is definitely not bad…not bad at all. –Frankie