Blurry

I didn't go to Cockblock looking for sex but somehow I found it.

Joe, the old doorman that has been working women's parties for ages, was warning two dudes exactly what type of event they were trying to enter, as I made my way to the front of the line. Queer. Dykes. He was abrupt but chortled after he made this statement. Yep we are allllll lesbians aren't we? Joe continued jovially. I smiled at this comment as he eyed my shiny ID.

I had arrived somewhat fashionably early, to stake out a good spot on the second floor, a perfect cocktail, a coat check, and delightful tipsy-ness by the time Cecilia and Ruth arrived. I leaned over the balcony ledge and stared out at the shadowy, blue-lit sea of women, waiting.

Cecilia and Ruth showed up together, laughing about something as they pushed their way through the newly formed crowd of women. Ruth rolled her eyes as Cecilia immediately pointed out her new cobalt suede Louboutin's. I gave the desired shrill reaction to the stunning pumps while watching Ruth easily wink at a petite dark haired femme floating past us.
Cecilia and Ruth. They couldn't be more different. It is not just skin deep either--although Ruth has an easy butch-ish hipster look and Cecilia is strikingly Vogue. Oh I know what you're thinking. And the answer is yes of course. They got drunk last year at our fave homos Mark and Dan's Christmas party and did the nasty. Did the nasty...okay I just can't say screwed with Cecilia and Ruth in the same sentence. Both of them refuse to discuss it, and pretend it never happened. The only reason I know about all of this is because I walked into the bathroom (yep. bathroom.) at a very inopportune--or opportune, depending on who you are--moment. Only Cecilia saw me, as she perched on the on the sink, her back pressed against the mirror, skirt around waist, and hands tangled in Ruth's hair. Her eyes were green slits, that widened when they met my own owl-like shocked stare. I abruptly shut the door, fled the scene, and grabbed another egg nog.

I returned my gaze to the packed first floor. That is when I saw her, beneath me. She was looking up, but I couldn't tell if she was looking back at me. Blue and pink strobe lights blurred my vision. A hot brunette with huge breasts was dancing around her provocatively, but she didn't really seem to notice or care. She walked away without a word, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Big Boobs disappointed.

Ruth had caught me staring and shook her head.

No no no no no.
What?! What'd I do?
Oh you know what you are doing. Let's bring the boil down to a simmer, k?

We have had this conversation countless times.

Cecilia came back from the bar--I hadn't even noticed her departure--and shoved a pink can of champagne at me. This was advice I could take. The neon straw went straight into my mouth and I took a long sip of the bubbles.

A clump of chicks beside us were arguing about Lindsay Lohan's sexuality and we took this as our cue to change locations. Climbing down, the metal stairs echoing under my heels, I let myself get lost in Katy Perry's barsexual song as I stepped onto the dance floor. The girl on the dance floor moments before was easily forgotten.

Zoom into the throngs, flashing lights and video screen. Fast forward: sweating, dancing and drinking limitless champagne. Moving with Cecilia and Ruth, losing them in the crowd, finding two tall stunning blondes, drunk or high, writhing perfectly to the pulsing base. Fast forward further.

Somehow I stumbled into a cab and got myself--and the blondes--back to my place around 2 AM. Who said three's a crowd?

Somewhere during dawn, as the sun rose and the sky turned from grey to pink, I had my fill and was done with the anonymous women giggling, still drunk, in my Egyptian cotton sheets. I kicked them out with a vague excuse about work (on a Sunday? it didn't matter). I spent the rest of the morning drinking coffee and trying not to feel guilty for my sins, looking into the fog resting outside my window. I thought about the girl on the dance floor and wondered if she was awake yet.

Always,

Louise

photo cred: moi