Sunday, February 25, 2007

Lots Of Lesbians

Friday afternoon, the arts editor was desperate for one more theatre review. I'm a pretty good last minute guy (lots of practice - I leave everything to the last minute). I decided on a play showing just around the corner from me. It's at the former studio/gallery of Madam Lash and it's a lesbian love story, based on a true story that happened more than 100 years ago in Memphis. None of my regular plus ones could make it so I went solo, not really giving anything much thought.

The play is one of the many Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Festival events, and yep, the old church was full of lesbians. It was a wall to wall lesbian fest. Lesbians of every age, shape and size. I don't know how they did it but they all oozed essence of lesbian. It's like they all went to lesbian boot camp. Thing is, I guess I thought this might be the situation but I didn't think there would be a problem. But inexplicably I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious as I sat there waiting for the lights to go down and the play to start. If I was one of them, for example, what would I think of this single straight guy here to see one of our shows about us? I'd probably narrow my lesbian eyes and think, "Hmmm... what's his game then? Why does he want to sit with lesbians and watch a play about lesbians? Does he even know this is a lesbian event? Could he be that stupid? I mean, sure, he looks bright and intelligent and, you know, quite fetching. In fact he could just make a few of us lesbians here turn with those twinkly blue eyes and his general air of sophisticated masculinity..."

You get the picture. I just didn't know if I'd really stepped in it but I did know it was too late to back out. You hear about people accidentally walking into gay club nights - was this a similar situation? I couldn't believe I was starting to think like this. Then again, this is me we're dealing with. I'm a walking, seething mass of insecurities.

I started wondering if I should maybe act like I was waiting for someone - a lesbian friend for example - and why aren't they here yet? Glance at my watch a lot, that kind of thing. I wondered how to sit. Maybe I should act a little camp because surely it would be okay for a gay guy to be here because... it just seemed a reasonable thing to think at the time.

Suddenly I was horrified to realise that in my nervous absent-minded fidgeting I had rolled my program into a tube and was holding it like an erection in my lap.

"Shit!" I hissed loudly, drawing the attention of almost every lesbian around me. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to make my program into a phallic symbol. It was an accident. Complete accident. I know such things are abhorrent to people like you, which is why I would never dream of doing it on purpose. It's just that I'm surprised to be a bit nervous by all the, um, carpet mun..."

I trailed off, not really sure if the term carpet muncher was relevant anymore. I mean, I'm a man of the world. I've accidentally seen the pictures on the internet and there's not a whole lot of carpet out there these days.

Still, lesbians are generally a hirsute lot so it was a fair bet there were one or two carpet munchers out there. Hmm, I thought, suddenly relaxing a little, we do have something in common after all.

After the play, the review of which I'll post here later, I made my exit as soon as the applause had died down. Through the heavy red felt curtains into the little entrance vestibule and the large Gothic door was closed. Two hefty lesbians were grappling with the heavy bolts. More lesbians came through the curtains and pretty soon the small area was full to its industry regulation safety limit of lesbians and one pathetic straight guy. I really didn't want to accidentally touch any of them on their boobies or anything, especially not after The Phallic Program Incident.

"I think they've locked us in," said the lesbian tugging at the bolt.

"Don't be stupid," replied her lesbian partner. "Why would they lock us in?"

Absurdly, more lesbians were crowding in from behind and it was increasingly difficult to not touch any lesbians. And it was getting hotter than a room full of lesbians.

"Oi," the lesbian bolt fiddler said, apparently to me. "You're a man, you know how to get us out of here."

"Ah," I replied, unable to see a damn thing because it was darker than a room full of lesbians too. "Erm... do you push or pull... I can't see... am I supposed to be lifting maybe or... "

The lesbian partner of the lesbian bolt fiddler decided that she would have a go and brushed me aside.

"Fine," I Told her. "Give it your best lesbian shot but I think you'll find it's stuck quite - "

The bolt clanked into place and the huge doors swung open. The two bolty lesbians looked at me and laughed, not in a cruel way but it hurt anyway.

"Yes," I told them, "I am a man, but I am a poet. We're not very good at manual things."

*(I hope) No lesbians were hurt in the telling of this lesbian story.*

6 comments:

Amra Pajalic said...

This so reminded me of my awkward moments. Like don't look at the dick. Oops, looking at a dick, stop looking at the dick, and every time you think dick, you find yourself looking at it. Fun, fun, fun.

Burrd said...

it's okay Quick, most people think you are gay on first meeting anyway so they probably thought you were a post op or something

gin said...

hahaha... story as well as it's comments very funny. Carpet only exists now in old Playboy photos...

Quick said...

Amra - it's like the hypnotic powers of erect nipples.

Hello Bird. I could have written that comeback for you.

That's right, Gin. No carpet, bugger all rugs, just, erm, polished floorboards?

emma said...

Very funny. And interesting too...about how pubic hair has gone the way of the dodo: "I've accidentally seen the pictures on the internet and there's not a whole lot of carpet out there these days."

guyana-gyal said...

You're wayyyy toooo funny for anybody to get offended, Quick.

After all these weeks of not blogging, I'm trying to catch up on your posts...I've been saving 'em for an afternoon when everything here goes zzzzz.