The L Word, speed dating and whipped cream on top

The L Word

Yes, I’ve been missing in action. Or rather I’ve been having a little too much action in the bathroom of the gym.But let’s face it, Barbie isn’t going to leave Ken and I’m looking for more than just a little romp.  So I’ve been out on the town. As I have been checking out some of my favorite sites to see what NYC lesbian events to hit, I came across The Real World Lesbian Style. Yup. I know.

As if we needed another docu-drama to watch, The L-Word is now going reality TV. Guess who wants to create it. Ding, ding ding!!” Via New York Daily News: L Word” creator Ilene Chaiken and the Magical Elves production team (“Project Runway,” “Top Chef“), will follow the lives of six lesbians living in Los Angeles. Because the deal hasn’t been finalized, “The Real L Word” hasn’t been cast, but Chaiken hopes to find women who embody what “The L Word” was about. (That would be power lesbians, bi’s gone crazy, and drugged out sexy studmuffins in case you missed any seasons. Just kidding.)

But seriously. Hello! Why LA, when you have an overly abundant population of lesbians filming documentaries in New York?

I am an avid fan of movies, but I notice that the genre of lesbian movies and television shows seems a little, well, played out. You have the coming out suicidal dramas (Lost and Delirious; Loving Annabelle ), the comedic coming out stories/ romantic comedies (Imagine Me & You; But I’m a Cheerleader), the Sarah Waters novels turned movie (Tipping The Velvet), and then you have the documentaries (Go Fish; Lesbian shorts and the list goes on.) As for television, there was Xena (are they really lesbians?), Buffy (0ut but still mostly in the closet), and then The L Word.

The L Word does own a category of its own because it was a daily soap opera that reminded us that our lives weren’t so fucked up and made being a lesbian or bi- totally sexy and trendy. Damn it, Chaiken if you are going to milk it with both a movie and a real world series–  now that, The Farm, staring Alice (Leisha Hailey) as jail bait didn’t get picked up– milk it in NYC!

Seriously, if Chaiken was really seeking the purest version of L-Word in reality, she only need go to Henrietta Hudson’s on Morton, Girl Nation or RF Lounge (formerly Ruby Fruit). Anyway that’s what I was thinking a week ago while being suckered into speed dating at Hen’s by Cindy, who was so was so friggin’ adamant about me doing it.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she prodded and pushed me in the middle of the room and in front of a skinny black woman that seemed to be in charge of the event.

“You and you are in. Go sit down there. OK. Play nice ladies. Get to know each others. Use our worksheet. When you hear the buzzer,” the host said. “Switch places.”

There is nothing more intense then being one of twelve girls speed dating in the middle of a bar packed tight with single girls who are all staring at you. Had I been completely sober I might have been terrified enough to stick to the questions on the worksheet given to us. However, Cindy, me and our new friend from the bi-sexual group, Jane had been at Henrietta’s since around 5pm and now it was nearing 9pm. (Frankie, our Kit, had opted out on this one tonight. She said something about hunting rabbits.) Needless to say, we all a bit tipsy and therefore inspired to stray from the questions on the card.

“So do you like whipped cream?” I asked as a first question to an attractive girl with short brown hair sitting somewhat uncomfortably in front of me. She burst out laughing. “Seriously, cherries on top or not?” I kept a straight face.

“I figured you would ask my name first?” she said, chuckling.

“We can get that figured out later. Priorities,” I said, smiling. She was cute and had a sense of humor.  I had to eavesdrop on my friends though.

I heard Cindy who was to my right take it a step further as if I dared her, “So do you have VD or any other STDs? I’d rather get that crap out of the way now so I know if I can fuck you later or not.”  The girl sitting opposite of her, with long red hair, looked appalled. Cindy smacked my leg.

Jane, who was to my left and across  was laughing at me and finally asked the girl opposite her, “So, do you come here often after work? What do you do?” The girl across from her had short blond hair and had been laughing at my conversation too. She tried to answer the question without laughing anymore at our conversation, which had moved onto the subject of, “Things to do sexually with Cheese Wiz.” the buzzer beeped and we all switched places.

Anyway, three or four speed dates later I was dying to speak to the snickering lady on my left, who Jane had been talking to earlier. She kept glancing over and smiling.  I realized I was paying more attention to her answers than those girls sitting across from me.  However, I was sitting in front of a very pretty lady who deserved my attention. She was very pretty,  and well, she looked straight. “Are you bi?” I asked.

“No. I date both men and women,” she answered and brushed her brown hair out of her face.”But I don’t box myself in if that’s what you mean.”

“Gotcha,” I winked. “Nor should you. I feel the same way.”

“For real?” she asked. ” Most people think I’m just being promiscuous, but I say you can’t tell if you like an ice cream flavor without trying it.”

“I totally get that. So what flavor would I be?” I asked.

“Raspberry, vanilla swirl, I’d say,” she answered, laughing. The buzzer beeped.

Finally, I got my chance to speak to The Giggler, who had been on my left. Before I sat down she said,”God, I’ve been dying to talk to you all night.”

Her name was Cloe, and she was a bartender. Miraculously, she had gotten a night off and wound up at Hens.

“I’m anti-relationship,” she warned. ” I’m just no good at it”

“Well, I’m no good at dating but I still try,” I said amused. For a self proclaimed player she was quite focused on our conversation and not the tall blond Swedish girls doing body shots by the bar. I’m not a player, but I couldn’t help but look over. Really, no one could ignore them.

“I’d, maybe, like to get to know you and your whipped cream techniques better some time,” she said. “Not a date,” she winked and pointed to my phone. I gave it to her and put her number in. The buzzer rang.

“And that concludes speed dating,” the host said. ” Write down on this piece of paper who you would like to call you and you will receive an email with the phone numbers and email addresses of the girls who mutually liked you.”

“That would be none for you,” I prodded Cindy, who was already standing beside me, arm on my shoulder.

I turned around to re- introduce Cloe to Cindy (as they had been speed dating earlier), but she had taken off to the bar and started doing body shots with the blond baby Sweedish dikes.

“Excuse me. Soooo. I hear you like whipped cream,” said a voice from behind us. There were two girls. One girl had jet black long hair, was sporting jeans and a black tank. The other had short brown curly hair, was sporting a polo and baggy jeans. They were each holding drinks topped with whipped cream. “We dig Cheese Wiz, and  don’t have any STDs either,” said the girl with short brown hair laughing.

“You girls are crazy,” said the girl with black hair extending the drink with whipped cream.”It’s an orgasm.”

Cindy and I looked at each other and smirked. Of course, that’s when the night really began. - Ruby

Kill Tha Wabbit

I had the apartment all to myself.  Ruby was away for a long weekend–again.  My roomie has been a ghost lately, she pays rent, though is rarely home, nor do we hang out like we did in the past.  I prepared a luscious dinner of  Trader Joe’s Chicken Enchiladas (come on, they are quite tasty considering they are frozen Mexican) and performed my New Moon stalking for the evening.  I had big plans for this evening…alone…in my empty, roommate free apartment…and they included my cute little pink pet and three C batteries…

Fine, I am a huge dork. I poured a glass of Merlot, lit a few candles; if no one will romance me, then I may as well do it myself. Yes, take care of everything myself. Hell, if you want it done right, may as well do it yourself.

So I started…slowly. This is a quality product, three speeds, various rotations, and a little plastic bunny attached at the base whose ears vibrate faster than his Energizer counterpart is able to beat that drum! I know many people have described, written about, and documented on film their experiences  with this product, though if you have tried it, then you will agree. This is the definitive woman’s little helper.

Now I was getting somewhere, daaaaaaammmmmn it felt amazing. I believe that I may have been well on the way to outdoing myself, while quite literally doing myself. I felt it, the sensation in my toes, chest, and right along my happy little trail;  YEEEEES! I AM AMAZZZZZZZING!!!

Wait! What?! No!!! Can’t be!!!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!! The device sputtered a few short vibrations and then…stopped. I lifted it up…looked at it in horror, as I realized that the batteries lost all of their juice before I lost mine. AND I had no replacements. I was so close!!!!!! I could really cry. WHHHHHHHYYYYY?!?!?!?!?!?! I couldn’t even finish manually, as the mood had officially died with the toy. I  killed The Rabbit. –Frankie

On Friends and Lovers

After a long day in the private equity industry, Sarah and I decided to do a bit of shopping.  No, this is not the time to be spending frivolously, though I was in desperate need of retail therapy as I was also on the verge of alcoholism; which may actually be the better option considering the latest rays of economic optimism; cheap bottle of Yellow Tail vs. $200 Gilt Group tab.  Oh the decisions.

Because the future of our employment is so uncertain we decided that buying yet another suit may be necessary.  In addition to the gray, navy, and black pinstripe…everyone could use a crisp, linen…charcoal shift dress and matching jacket…right???

While advising each other on our picks in the Banana Republic fitting room, Sarah and I began discussing our love interests…

“So any promising suitors?”, I asked.

“Eh, only eye candy.  What about you?”

“Oh, well…I have the most painful crush right now.  You know, love hurts.”, I laughed.

“Rrreally??”, asked Sarah, “who is the crush??”

Before today, I had hinted to Sarah on a few occasions that my crush was Cole, though never admitted it.

“Well”, I began, “He is not the typical type of guy who I like…which means he seems to have his shit together.”, I chuckled.

Rolling my eyes and exhaling the deep breath that I just took in, “It’s Cole,”  I breathed.

Sarah looked at me and her smile turned further upward and she began to laugh, “That’s my crush!!!!”

We were jumping around in the dressing room like schoolgirls while wearing our cute little dresses complete with price tags.

I began laughing and grabbed her hands in mine while asking, “Doesn’t his ass look like it was sewn into his trousers?!?!?!  And I bet those trousers would look great on the floor!”

“Yes!!”, she agreed, “each time he bends over, I could swear that I am going to faint and need medical attention.”

“You know Sarah, if we were any other two girls, this could turn ugly, though strangely I  see this crush as bringing us closer”, I said.

Sarah agreed saying, “It’s like our little secret…”

“Our little secret about Cutie Bend Over…or C.B.O. for short,” I winked.

“OOOOH you’re bad!  I love it!”, Sarah exclaimed.

Taking this last comment as a compliment, I said, “Eh I try…we’ll be completely fair when it comes to love…and a great, tight ass.”  –Frankie

Why lesbians really love the iphone