Love Sick

While Frankie was getting grabbed by blue M&Ms, I was buying a bag of M&M’s for Kerry at Duane Reed. They were her favorite and she needed them.

It had been a busy week. I had been swamped at work, was lining up dates from that night of speed dating for the weekend and next week. I was on the phone with Cloe (who was making me turn three shades of pink), when I ran into Kerry (or rather she ran into me literally) while entering Equinox.

“Great so I’ll bring the whipped cream. Yummmmm. So next Sunday, is good then? Great. I’ll see you,” I was saying to Cloe, and opening the door to the gym when Kerry slammed right into me from behind. My gym bag flew into a nearby bush.

“Ladies first, hot stuff,” Kerry said shoving past me and teetered by me.

“Uhhh. Sorry, Cloe. Yes, Sunday. I’ll call you back,” I said while recovering my bag and hung up. What the hell was Kerry doing here now and what was her problem. She was here on her day off? Had they switched her schedule? She had nerve. Who did she think she was shoving, anyway?

I caught up with her in the locker room. She looked half-cocked and was standing by the sink swaying. “You know, you don’t have to be such a pushy bitch,” I quipted.

“Baby, baby. I miss you,” Kerry said softly and smiled and planted a kiss on my lips, throwing her arms around me. Her lips were soft and warm and she smelled like powder.

I was tempted to just stay there with her soft arms wrapped around me. I pushed her away. She was completely unbalanced and once I realized she was going to hit the ground like a rag doll, I scrambled and caught her. “Shit, what is wrong with you?”

“Wrong?” Kerry said. “Oh, what could be wrong? I have you. I have Greg (her boyfriend). I have everything,” she said giggling and tried to kiss me again.

I put my hand over her mouth. “You don’t have me.” Her face was flushed and her head seemed hot. I put my hand on her forehead. “You are burning up,” I said to Kerry. “Are you sick?”

“Sick, sick, love sick,” she said, trying to plant another kiss on me. “Will you take care of me, my love? Maybe we should go in there,” she said and motioned suggestively toward the bathroom stall.

“Yes, you are very sick,” I said and shook my head. “Come with me.” I brought Kerry out to the front of the gym and asked the manager if Kerry had been sick. He took one look at her and asked me if he should call an ambulence.

Instead, we cabbed it to the hospital. Kerry put her head in my lap in the cab and cried. ” Do you want me to call Greg?” I offered, gritting my teeth. They had been together for a few months now and the thought of Kerry with this really nice jock made me sick to my stomach even though I was happy for her.

“Noooo,” Kerry wailed. ” You take care of me. You,” she said.

I grabbed her phone and texted Greg anyway.

When we got to the hospital we sat and waited fo a half an hour and then Kerry was ushered into a doctors office. I tried to follow, but since I wasn’t family they told me I couldn’t accompany her. I waited in the lobby until the doctor came out and told me he wanted to watch Kerry overnight because she had walking pnemonia and was dehydrated. He showed me to her room and told me that visiting hours would be over soon but that they would take good care of her, and I could probably pick her up and take her home in the morning if she was better.

“Hey sicko,” I said and entered The room. Kerry was in bed attached to an IV.

“Keep me warm and snuggle with me,” she said, scooting over so I could lay next to her on the bed. ”You know I always thought we were soul mates, but maybe soul mates are really not meant to be together,” Kerry said and nuzzled her face into my neck. One thing I did know about Kerry is she had little tolerance for alcohol and drugs, even pescription medication.

“Kerry,” I said uncomfortably and turned to look her in the eyes. Shit, I missed her. “Let’s not go there. We’re good. Ok?”

“Excuse me,” said an overweight older woman in a nurse outfit. She was eying me in such a suspisious way that I could have crawled under the bed. “Visiting hours are over so you will have to leave.”

“She is staying,” insisted Kerry. “I can’t sleep without her. I need her here. She’ll be real quiet and just snuggle under the covers with me. I promise,” Kerry said in a whoosy voice.

The nurse looked like she could spit fire. “Rules are rules,” responded the nurse.

I got up out of the bed and gave Kerry a hug. ” I’ll see you first thing tomorrow ,” I said.

Kerry burst into tears. Another nurse entered the room.  ” No. I don’t want you to gooooooo,” she said. “I fucked it all up, and I’ll never see you agaaaaiiin. AND I HATE HOSPITALS!”

The nurse looked at me and then at Kerry repeatedly. “What!” Kerry said. “I love her. Let her stay.” Kerry grabbed at my shirt and pulled me toward the bed.

“Kerry, I’ll be back tomorrow. Chill out,” I said calmly unhooking her claws. If it’s possible to feel mortified and happy at the same time that’s what I was feeling. “I’ll bring Greg too. I texted him so I’m sure he’ll be here soon and I’ll tell him to come pick you up in the morning. I’m sure he’s worried about you.” Where the hell was he, anyway?

“Where is Greg? Promise me you’ll come back before I wake up,” Kerry said.

“Okay. I’ll bring M&Ms like we always had for breakfast on Sunday. Calm down and go to bed,” I said.

“Okay,” Kerry said. “M&Ms….” Kerry said and yawned.

I left and bumped into Greg in the waiting room. He had flowers and looked petrified.

“We can come back and get her in the morning,” I explained. “I’ll meet you here at 7am.”

“That’s really early?” he started.

“Be there or be….whatever,” I trailed off and headed home where I found Cindy waiting with a six pack and pizza.

“You didn’t really  need to go to the gym anyway,” Cindy said smiling. “Come on, I have six dates this week, Jane has five, what does your week look like Ruby Tuesday.”

“Shut up,” I hated that nickname. “I have seven.”

“Did you double book this week?” Cindy asked.

“Yes,” I said blushing. - Ruby

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Tit for Tat

On this day after Halloween 2009, I must address an issue which has frustrated me for ages.  Last night, Nigella, her childhood friend Nicole, Nicole’s boyfriend Bo, and I headed to the West Village for Halloween festivities.  We have been feeling a bit too old to mingle with the post parade crowd, though decided to venture out, as Bo was visiting from out of town.  We visited one of my favorites, XR Bar.  It was here we mingled with Pacman, a few bananas, Charlie Brown & Lucy, and Vivian (Julia Robert’s character from Pretty Woman).  After leaving XR bar, it was time for some pizza from Arturo’s.  During our walk, not once, but twice, Nigella was felt up by random male passers by who felt obligated to touch my friend’s breasts, as they walked toward her in the opposite direction.  Another adventurous blue M&M grabbed hold of my arm as he walked by me and when I tried to break free he resisted until I stabbed him with my plastic devil’s pitchfork.  At 6′5 and an estimated 300 pounds, Bo is quite an intimidating bodyguard and though he was about to melt this M&M down to his peanut core, he couldn’t stop everyone from committing every offense.  Though why is it that three grown, adult women need a chaperone to protect against  losers who feel that they have the right to disrespect and take from women in such a manner?

Why do certain people feel the need to touch and grab other people’s body parts while walking past them in the opposite direction, if there is an attraction?  Walk by molestation has been a peeve of mine for quite some time.  I am truly sick and tired of this behavior.  I remember walking through The Tunnel as a young club goer in NYC, having my ass pinched, and quickly throwing an elbow to the suspected assailants kidney before they could make a clear getaway.  Just last March, I defended myself against another ass-ault by grabbing the culprit by the throat.

And no, don’t think that it’s only the men  touching women inappropriately.  I have had quite a few women commit pinch and runs on my bottom as well.

And the argument of a woman asking for such attention by dressing in a promiscuous outfit is purely bullshit as well.  No, we were not dressed in thong panties and fishnets, though if we were, there is still no right granted to anyone to touch another person without invitation.  I have always believed that if someone touches me inappropriately, license is granted to me to defend myself.  I asked Nigella why she didn’t slap the guys who touched her and she said that it all really happened too quickly to identify the person whose hand she felt touch her; like when this happens while riding the subway.

By the end of the evening (an early 12:30 am) we were all a bit tired of the crowd in general and hailed a taxi back to Nigella’s place in Astoria.  After the lovebirds fell asleep, Nigella and I finished off our lasagna pie slices, which we reheated to perfection (though they are amazing cold as well) and decided that next year we would keep the Halloween party at someone’s apartment so that we wouldn’t be harassed by idiots who wanted to solicit a party in their pants.  Ruby is always saying that we should host more parties; hmmm, I wondered how my roomie’s night was going.  “Nigella”, I said, “next time a blue M&M tries to touch me, I’m going to make him melt when I kick him in the nuts.” –Frankie

Cheri Poppin’?

So the whipped cream girls Cindy and I met at speed dating turned out to be sisters. They seemed fun and kept us chatting and dancing all night. I was dancing with Cheri, who was tre femme. Her sister Judi had a girl friend, but Cheri was single.  She had long black hair, manicured nails, wore designer clothes and was tall and thin. She seemed a little high maintainance for me, but I decided to go with the flow and gave her my number.

She called the next day and asked me to meet her at TKettle on St. Marks. It’s one of those cute little coffee rooms that just happens to have great bubble tea. Cheri was waiting outside the tea room for me. She seemed really nervous.

“I thought you might not come,” she said gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. She was dressed in a mini-T and jeans and smelled like powder.

We ordered some bubble tea and took a seat at the back of the place. She still seemed particularly nervous, but she was smiling from ear to ear. I couldn’t quite figure out her agenda. She clearly seemed to have one.

“So you really surprised me the other night,” I started. “I’m not used to girls being so forward with me.”

“I’m not most girls, and I could tell you aren’t either,” she said slyly. “I find you really attractive.”

“Thanks,” I blushed. “But I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a girlfriend already?”

“Umm. Well…” she started. “I’m really new at this, actually. I’ve never been with a girl, but I’d like to be. I just recently split up with my boyfriend because I wanted to try it,” she said.

“Oh?” I said. “How long did you split with your boyfriend?”

“A couple of days ago,” she said. “We were engaged. This sounds bad, right? The thing is I really have always wondered what it would be like to be with a girl, and he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of sharing me with someone.”

“Well, I understand that,” I said.

“I mean, I’m just that way,” she said. “I like to try new things and he knows that. I met him at a nudist resort after all,” she said.

“Oh,” I said and thought ‘This is just getting better and better’.

“Have you ever been?” she asked.

“Uh. No, I’ve never really thought about going to one,” I said.

“It’s so freeing. I should take you. I bet you would like it. It’s so open and free feeling. No one is hiding anything because you can’t,” she said laughing.

“Hmmm. I don’t know. I’m not really a walk around nude type of girl unless I’m in my apartment,” I said realizing I was sounding ultra conservative compared to Cheri.

“It’s all right,” she started. Her  cell phone, which was sitting on the table, rang. She looked at it and ignored it.

“Why did you want to start dating girls?” I asked.

“I just have always wanted to. My sister was always into girls and I’ve always wondered if I was like her. I’ve always thought I might enjoy being with a girl. I’m sure I would. In fact, I’d like to take you home after this. I want you to teach me everything. You can be my first,” she said and pushed her hair out of her face suggestively. She was playing footsie with me under the table.

I was beet red. “Cheri, I’m flattered,” I said. “But that’s not really my style. I like to take my time and I’m looking for something serious.”

Cheri’s phone rang again. She looked at it and then back at me. “I am serious. Let’s try it. I mean have you ever been with both a girl and a guy together? If you want I could get a guy to join us too?”

“Yeah, that’s not what I’m really looking for.” I said. “But it sounds fun. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls…”

“You are hot,” she said. “I want you. I want to fuck you,” she said. Her phone rang. “Hold on,” she said. “Billy, I’m on a date with a girl. No you cannot come. You aren’t my boyfriend anymore. I know. I know. OK I love you too,” she said and hung up.

I almost started laughing. I got up.

Cheri popped up out of her chair. “Come home with me,” she pleaded. “I want to get to know you better.”

“I know,” I said, but I wan’t into this scene. “Listen, there are plenty of pretty girls in NYC. You should have fun now that you are newly single. Call me, and we’ll hang out again soon,” I lied.

My phone rang. “Chaquita,” I answered.”

“Banana. Where are you?” Frankie screamed into my ear. “Beer and wine and raunchy movie night tonight!”

“Fantastic! Give me 20 minutes,” I said.

“I gotta go, Cheri,” I said.

“Are you seeing other people?” she asked.

“I am,” I said although I really wasn’t dating anyone in particular. “Call me soon.”

“Okay,” she said and tried to kiss me.

I turned my head and she caught my cheek. I turned around and waved goodbye and made my way down St. Mark’s Street,  and decided that sometimes it’s not so bad being single or picky.

I checked my email on my iPhone quickly. There were the speed dating results. I had gotten 7 numbers. Seven seemed like a lot. Had I spoken to that many girls? Who was who? But there was one name that I definitely recognized. - Ruby

Knock ‘em Out

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

Why lesbians really love the iphone

What a drag…queen. That is.

I decided I might try the online dating thing, against Frankie’s wishes. I know, I know, it sounds desperate, right? But everyone is on Facebook and Twitter so where is the harm in a little online dating? I went on a date with this girl from Curve. Her screen name was Abracadabra. My question when I saw her profile: Can you find magic from online dating?

We emailed for the first week, started texting the second week and by the third week we were set to meet. So we did, at Cubbyhole.  The bar was packed so we slid into the booth at the back of the club and tried to talk over the crowd.

Abracadabra was extremely pretty, thin and very serious. She was a reporter for a newspaper and a part-time poet. Quite the combination. Anyways, we had Hemingway in common. I knew she liked his novels from her Curve profile and we had not yet covered literature in our discussions. I debated that The Sun Also Rises was his defining work while she was arguing that it was The Old Man and The Sea.

In the midst of our Hemingway discussion, a trannie or drag queen in a purple mini-skirt and a silver shirt named Glinda that was crammed between our table and a neighboring one joined in our conversation.

“No, no. You have it all wrong. It was A Farewell To Arms that made his career, ladies,” Glinda interrupted and then squeezed into the booth next to my date. “Oh, thank god. So are you gals here often?” she asked.

“Um…no,” replied Abracadabra, looking awkward. “We are on our first date.”

“Oh,  how adorable. And you are both so pretty. What an amazing couple you would make,” Glinda said. “So what do you do?” she asked me.

“I’m in publishing,” I replied a bit taken off gaurd.

“And you?” she asked Abracadabra.

“I’m a reporter, why?” Abracadabra replied.

“Ah, so you are both people that cling to words. Words can make or break a relationship for you,” she said.

“I suppose,” I replied. “but, it depends upon the actions that go along with it…”

“I’ll be right back,” announced Abracadabra.”Have to go to the girl’s room.”

“Ok,” I replied. Since Glinda was there we continued talking a bit philosophically about relationships that is until I got a text from Abracadabra:

Pissed. Meet me outside.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked when I went met her outside the bar.

“Only that you would rather talk to some drag queen then me!” exclaimed Abracadabra.”I can’t believe you would sit there and start carrying on a conversation with her on our first date.”

“But the bar is jam packed and you went to the bathroom…” I tried to rebuttle.

Abracadabra started crying. All I wanted was a normal relationship with someone and now I find out you are into drag queens…” she sobbed.

I was a bit confused. “Huh? We aren’t in a relationship and no I like girls. I’m not into drag queens,” I said.

Abracadabra was hysterical crying. I tried to console her but she pushed me away and then slapped my arm. Now I know when someone is acting possessive. I did date Elizabeth after all, but  this was way beyond that. This was insane.

“You know what,” I said. “You’re right. Glinda is kinda cute. I’m sorry I bothered meeting you. But I’m glad I did come because I’m going to hang out with her instead.”  I went inside the bar and bought Glinda a drink. She was good company. I suppose that’s why I think there’s no magic in online dating, but now that I hear Lindsay Lohan is on eHarmony I might change my mind.  That is if they are not back on. - Ruby.

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