Ex Marks the Spot

I am going to go out on a big limb here and say something that I never thought would come out of my fingertips. San Francisco was one of the best cities in the world, in my humble opinion. But these days...it can’t hold a candle to LA, at least in terms of the lesbian scene. There. I said it. My heart will always be in San Francisco but Los Angeles is completely taking another little piece of my heart (now, baby).

That was the reflection portion of this program. And now. Wow. Drama big time. Because I broke all of the rules of singleland.

It has been about a month and a half since the move and I am already becoming a permanent fixture at every single lesbian event possible. I may or may not be back up to my old tricks that I had temporarily sworn off in SF when it started to all catch up with me. In reporting home to Ruth and Cecilia I have left out some minor details because basically...I really am not in the mood to be lectured. Kim is happy to have a partner in crime since Andi is such a homebody and Leah is somewhat of an enigma. Plus Kim is a perfect wingman, which is good for me. Honestly, it is as though I have had one of those makeovers you see in films. I got a Melrose haircut at Rudolph’s, I spent almost all my savings on flimsy tops, killer shoes, and ridiculous lingerie, and when I step out at night I feel...powerful.

And so it was with these delusions of power, sex, and glory, that I walked into major trouble last week. We went to APO at Rockwell, a more mellow cocktail party for the lezzies in Hollywood. I got checked off the guest list, with Kim nipping at my Chanel encased heels (yes I know, die), and Leah aloof as over, all smokey eyes and spiky mohawk.

RULE #1: If you are single DO NOT try to make friends with a couple of your same sexual persuasion. (Broken, check)

After mingling around and saying our hellos I got pulled away from Kim and into a conversation with a very attractive couple. Everything I said was apparently hilarious, and next thing I knew they were buying me shots of something fruity and delicious and deadly. The blonde of the couple, a tall femme with killer legs, seemed particularly interested in everything I had to say, and insisted that we must hang out sometime soon. She did seem to be coming on a little strong but the more champagne I had the less I really cared.

RULE #2: Don’t get pulled in. Don’t let your guard down. Don’t get drunk and forget the rules. (Broken, check.)

The music was great, the drinks were flowing, and Leah was even cracking a smile (which should seriously be illegal--way too hot). I had two new best friends and I didn’t want the party to stop.

RULE #3: DO NOT invite the couple over. You just met them you moron! (Broken, check.)

I invited them back to our place. We piled in Kim’s car, and I was squeezed in the back next to Blondie. Her hand was on my thigh. Shit. I awkwardly tried to move away only to be pressed up against the Brunette girlfriend. Shit and shit, but no it is okay I was drunk drunk drunkkkkkkk.

We got back to the apartment and Kim poured screwdrivers for everyone. Andi even came out and downed one, although she didn’t look totally pleased about the late night partying. Leah put on some of her angry dyke music, and I went to the kitchen for a refill. Blondie followed me.

RULE #4: Don’t encourage it even a little bit. Don’t encourage it at all. (Broken, check.)

You’re really cute Louise.

Oh. Thanks ______.

Yeah. this is kinda bad isn’t it?

What is? What is bad?

Blondie smiled, catching her lower lip with her white teeth, looking up at me from under heavy lids. Oldest trick in the book man. Oldest trick. I laughed nervously, but my guard was still down. I was drunk I didn’t give a shit.

RULE #5: Don’t go there. Just DON’T go there. Don’t go to the bathroom! (Broken, check.)

I have to go to the bathroom. I told her and semi-stumbled away. She was following me slowly, I could feel her. I could feel her eyes on my ass. She wasn’t being even slightly discrete. The party had moved to the living room and Brunette was laid out on the couch semi-conscious. Kim and Leah were doing lines of coke (where the hell did that come from?) and Andi had seemingly disappeared back to her room. It was all blurry and surreal as I walked down the hall. I could hear her heels clicking behind me. I pushed open the bathroom door and her hands were on my waist all of a sudden and she shoved me onto the marble counter, and her tongue was in my mouth and my brain was shouting STOP and my body was in complete disagreement.

It all happened extremely fast. The door flew open. There was Brunette. FUCK ME!!! Screamed my brain. Blondie let go of me and raced after her, tears already running down her face: I can explain...

I sat on the counter frozen. Shit shit shit. I grabbed my drink and downed the rest of it in a quick clean swallow. Then I jumped down and walked into the living room. Leah and Kim sat on the floor confused. They looked up at me.

What the hell just happened? Kim exclaimed her blue eyes wide, pupils dilated from the drugs.

Dude, Louise do you know who you have fucked with? You have to learn to keep it in your pants.

Did they leave?

Yeah. Want a bump?

Yeah. Yeah, I do.

I sat down on the floor next to them, shoved some white powder in my right nostril, and coughed, staring at the ceiling. Leah rubbed my back and Kim squeezed my hand. Thank god for the solidarity of my roommates. I had already screwed myself and a decent portion of the LA lesbian population--the last thing I needed was to lose the few friends I had.

And so I have entered into drama I never meant to enter into. I am officially a part of the LA scene and not necessarily in a good way. I need to go back to following certain rules of engagement. I like trouble. I don’t like drama. But I will be out again at the next party, causing something I am sure.

Always,

Louise