Further dating disasters

Hey there,
We want to hear more of your dating disasters and for that reason we have started a Facebook page and will now be posting on Blogger. Frankie has a new post up and I’ll have a new post up tomorrow so check it out. – Ruby

Does double booking double your pleasure?

Dating friends is usually a bad idea and falling for them is incredibly stupid (um just look at me and Kerry). I seriously doubted that Frankie would prove my theory wrong with Josh (aka as the best guy to grab a beer with, discuss comics with and continuously debate the best superpowers one could possibly inherit). But, come on, date Josh?

Meanwhile, back in lala lan,d bumping into Kerry had sprung up my past fantasies about Kerry. How bad is that? Not only did I come back to the hospital in the next morning to be greeted by her kissing her boyfriend, but she seemed intent on me leaving as soon as possible. So I thought, “Fuck you and your untouchable face,” and recalled that luckily I had downloaded Ani DiFranco onto my iPod. I put the song, “Untouchable Face” on repeat for the subway ride home.

I then started to get ready for my dates. Yes, plural, dates. I had seven dates this week. All from speed daing. I double booked dates for this one night. I know it’s rude, but I met these girls speed dating and frankly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I decided that I would line the dates up as close as possible and give each other girls a red rose to start off the date. I scheduled the double booking because I’ve never doubled booked before so I thought it might double my pleasure and double my fun. That, unfortunately was not the case.

My first date had called me well four times a day since we met. Let’s call her Stalker. I’m not sure why I agreed to go out with Stalker because the more I spoke with her on the phone, the more she scared me. We met at Henrietta’s for a late afternoon drink that Sunday. She seemed blown away by the fact that I gave her a rose. Stalker, who was a few years older than me, started the conversation by telling me about all 3 of her ex-girlfiends and how they had tortured her emotionally and how she was looking for a “hot” partner that she could mother children with.

“I know most lesbians don’t want kids, but I do,” she explained. “I wanted them with my former girlfriends too, but none of them were interested in kids and I would want my partner to have the children.Do you want kids?”

“Oh, well, uh, down the road,” I said almost choking on my beer. She sounded like my mom talking about having kids. Now, having a beer and sitting across from this girl, I felt an overwhelming amount of pressure to pop babies out, perhaps one by one like rounds of gun fire at her head.

Stalker grabbed my arm, “when I saw you I though you were the prettiest femme I had ever laid eyes on,” she said.

“Oh I bet you say that to all the femmes,” I laughed growing more and more afraid of this act.

And then out of nowhere Stalker kissed me. Hard and bit my lip.

“Ouch!”

Somehow Stalker had managed to back me up against a wall and had decided, “Ouch,” meant I was having fun. I shoved her off. “Hey, hey, stop it!”

“Come on Ruby, I know you want me,” Stalker said. “I know you think I’m hot.”

“Uhhhh, sure I do, but you know I really want to take things slow. I mean sloooow. As in I want to get to know you first,” I said, meaning, ‘as in no way’.

She didn’t get it.

“I can give it to you sloooow,” she said suggestively trying to shove me back up against the wall.

“Whhoooaaaa there,” I said pushing her back a little bit. ” I mean, for real. We might work  better as friends,” I said. I checked my watch. I had to leave in 15 minutes to get to my other date.

Stalker took my friends comment to mean I wanted her to kiss me again. After I recovered from yet another love bite, I grabbed my jacket and RAN. I ran like Forrest Gump.

I met Sheila at City Crab rose in hand and luckily my lips were not bleeding. A lesbian wanting to meet up in a Crab restaurant erked me out a bit, but the restaurant was actually nice and the food was quite good. Sheila was extremely to the point about everything.

“I want to fall in love,” she told me while tearing apart a crab leg with a lobster cracker. “I’ve always thought I would just meet someone out of the blue, so the whole speed dating thing was not normal for me,” she explained. “Are you looking for a fuck or a girlfriend,” she inquired.

“I’m looking for a little bit of both,” I said and slurped down an oyster. “Usually I like to fuck my girlfriends,” I said in a snarky tone.

She laughed. “Well, I’m just going to let you know up front that I’ve slept with (insert semi-famous lesbian musician here) and no one, I mean no one is as good as her in bed,” she said.

“No problem, I won’t try to compete,” I said, and meant it. I don’t know about you, but when someone brags about sleeping with a celebrity it is a major turnoff for me. While I find Lindsay Lohan hot. The idea of sleeping with her doesn’t do it for me. Because if you sleep with them are you sleeping with the celebrity or the person being the celebrity, cause there is no way they are one and the same. Right?

For the  next half an hour Sheila ranted on about this semi-famous musician, which reminded me of another bad date I had been on. After we ate dinner we shook hands and headed home. Sheila tried to kiss me and I extended a hand.

“Errr. I want to take things slow,” I explained. “You know that expression fools rush in and everything.” - Ruby

The Way We Never Were

It had been way too long since I had a sweet, great date.  My focus had been on Cole for way too long and nothing had come of it. I became bored of this crush that I had on him and began to sense that Sarah had wanted him much more. So I decided; she could have him.  Don’t get me wrong I still think that he is incredibly hot, though not taking it more seriously than what it is; serious eye candy during the workday

It was after this epiphany that Josh called and asked if I would like to get together.  My stomach did flutter a bit when I saw his name pop up on my caller ID; perhaps Cooper had been right and I was happy that his speculation proved to be on point.  Josh and I agreed to meet on Friday and grab a few pints at Limerick House, which is located right down the street from where we live.  Ruby was in absolute hysterical laughter after I told her that I made plans with Josh.

“JOSH?!?!  But…it’s Josh!!!”, screamed an excited Ruby, “He’s so…he’s so not who I would see you with.”

“What?  I like dorky guys; you know that.  I usually have the best relationships with guys who match my level of dorkiness”, I contested.

“Yes, I agree Frankie”, began Ruby, “though you’re so much more…you’re you and he is…Josh.”

“Yes, you said that.  And what does that mean??”, I asked, laughing.

“OK.  He is fun to have drinks and spend time with at the bar…on a platonic level.  You have difficulty with this concept, I know, but Frankie, dear, dear Frankie…you’re hot.  I know that you think you’re a dork and you are; you have one of the dorkiest personalities of anyone who I know.  You watch Jeopardy! for fun, hate air quotes, are a complete grammar snot, and listen to both Taylor Swift and Korean pop music.  BIG DORK.  Huge.  Though according to your looks;  sorry babe, a dork you are certainly not.  And hot he is not”.

“Uh, well Ruby, dear Ruby.  Thank you…I think”, I replied, “that was sweet though you know I find the dorks irresistible”.

“Well, one more thing Frankie.  I heard that his last break up set him off.  His ex-girlfriend cheated on him with someone who she met on Facebook.  He is on a mad, indiscriminate fucking rampage.  Plain and simple, our little, young dork has become quite a dog.  Please be careful.”

“Really?  That must have hurt!  Though Josh…a complete hound?  I can’t see it.”

“Yes, like no one would ever think that you know EVERY SINGLE LINE TO EACH AND EVERY EPISODE OF FRIENDS.  He is a player in dork’s clothing.”

On Friday, Josh called and asked if I would mind his friend Cary tagging along to which I replied, “Of course not; the more the merrier”, trying to hide my feelings that this did strike me as a bit strange.  I now wondered if perhaps I had been mistaken.  Eh, why am I examining this so closely.  I promised myself that I would have no expectations of this evening except to have a great time with an old friend.

The guys stopped by and we walked together to the bar.  Josh and I picked up from where we left off.  He had me laughing and we were having such a great time; such a great time that I didn’t mind that Cary tagged along.  His girlfriend, Reina stopped by after we had a few pints and the good times continued.  Josh even paid for most of my drinks, though I sneaked in a round for the group when returning from the ladies’ room (it’s simply good manners).  We were amazed that we both had lived in the neighborhood for so long and never saw each other.

By the end of the night I was exhausted though wanted the night to continue; we were having such a good time.  Outside of the bar, we said goodnight to Cary and Reina then Josh walked me to my door.

“I am really happy that we met again on the platform and tonight was super great”, he said.

I smiled, “Yes, it was fun catching up.  I am still in disbelief that we live so close.”

He started,”Well I’m going to go.  Far walk you know.”

I laughed and he asked, “Frankie could I please take you to dinner next week?”

Jeez, he even said please.  Still smiling I agreed, “Yes.  I would like that.  Tonight was good fun, Josh.  Thanks for a great evening”.

He leaned in and I could swear he was going for my lips, though at the last moment brushed my cheek with his lips, wrapping his arm around my waist and hugging me close.  Pulling away slowly, he said in a low tone, “Goodnight Frankie, I’ll call you during the week.”

“Goodnight Josh.  Be careful walking home”, I replied, joking.

Ruby was up when I came inside.  She was keeping a low profile after caring for Kerry.  If that wench made Ruby sick (via flu or heartbreak), I was going to put her in the hospital again.

“How was it?”, asked Ruby.

I thought for a moment, breathing in deeply, “Like old times…though much better.”

–Frankie

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

Out and In with the Old

Ruby and I decided to have a Roomie Day of Fun.  After becoming roommates, great friends may, at times, spend less time doing friend things together.  Sofa time, sharing Patsy’s delivery replaces quality time spent bar hopping and dinner out on the town. 

We spent Sunday shopping-Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market and Century 21, eating yummy Ethiopian food…and well…more shopping–West 4th Street.  Ruby and I have served as each other’s sex toy consultants.  With the demise of my Rabbit Pearl (a cord problem, not dead batteries), which she gave to me as a 28th birthday gift, we decided that a shopping sexcursion was in order. 

Prior to our fun day Sunday, I conducted a bit of internet research.  So many options and imitation Rabbits.  From bullets to bunnies.  The Only product to tickle my fannie….ummm fancy was still my oldie but goodie, Rabbit Pearl, as I am unable to afford The Victor.  The Victor is a pretty little platinum pet with bands of diamonds encircling the middle of  and oblong shaft.  Though at a starting price of more than $35,000, I must leave this luxurious indulgence to Robb Report readers.

We made our way from Seventh Avenue South toward Sixth down West Fourth.  Tic Tac Toe and The Birthday Suit are my favorites, as they provide an array of pleasure (and pain if that is your pleasure) products for every desire and fetish (every girl should own a red custom fit corset, shouldn’t they?).  While Ruby was examining a pair of boyshorts…complete with attached dildo, I saw it, shining brightly and pink…a lovely, brand spanking new…Rabbit Pearl.  After leaving with our little, discreet shopping bags, Ruby wanted to stop by Cubby Hole for a drink.  I was a bit tired and needed to have my eyebrows threaded at Unique Threading.  I ran down to the platform for the F train and while waiting, turned when HE was walking down the stairs.  I had not seen him since I left NYC to live in Australia.  He saw me when I saw him.  “Frankie!”,  he said, sounding surprised, “What. What are you doing here?  What happened to Australia?  What.  What’s up?”  “Josh!  Hi!”, I said as he hugged me tightly, “Great to see you.  What great timing!  Oh, yes,  Australia; well it was great, though it was not for me.  Now Ruby and I live together in Chelsea”.  Ruby, Josh, and I worked together years ago at my first publishing job after college.  Cooper always suspected Josh as having a crush on me, though I paid no mind to the speculation, as I had been so in love with my pre-violence boyfriend.  Now I wondered if Cooper had been correct and if I would mind if he had been.  Here we were, two years later, going the same way on the same train.  “That’s funny, I live in Chelsea!”, exclaimed Josh.  We took the train two stops to 23rd Street.  As he said, this was “Funny”, though what was even funnier–he lives in the building five doors down.  I allowed him to walk me home, still amazed at our timing.  Eyebrow threading could be saved for another day, I decided as I went inside to polish off my new toy…or allow it to polish off me. –Frankie

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

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