Speed dating california lesbian
Speed dating california lesbian - Adult Chat Rooms
Photo by Leslie Sachs I am a 31-year-old woman who has never been on a date. The closest I came was in high school, when I asked a unibrowed record store employee out solely because he wore archaic clothes and, on the afternoon I entered his store, was listening to a Cheap Suit Serenaders LP.Our "date" was little more than the public consumption of whiskey; it culminated in the two of us drunkenly falling asleep on his twin-sized mattress.
At 1 AM, he took me to the waterfall featured in the opening credits of .(I say "allegedly" because I cannot be bothered to google it, because I do not care.) Upon arrival, I mistakenly wandered upstairs, where I found myself surrounded by bloated white men who were talking, presumably, about how great it is to run the fucking world while eating appetizers.I overheard one tell another, "Y'know, on Tuesdays, there's lesbian speed dating downstairs." His companion burst into hysterics upon receipt of this information.I could feel my face turn beet red, like in a teen film, as I ran back down the stairs and into the loving arms of my new coven.As we stared from the darkness of our isolated perch at its illuminated, undulating flow, he quipped that he could, in this moment, very easily kill me and get away with it.I went home with him and didn't leave for two years.
When it comes to dating women, I have even less experience.
And by "less experience," I mean "absolutely no experience." But consarn it, I want some—I am ready, 30-plus years into the game, to explore the bisexuality I was bequeathed at birth.
So when a friend suggested I try lesbian speed dating, I figured, Abject confusion was the norm from launch.
An exclamation-point–riddled email from the event's organizers informed me that the suggested attire was "dressy casual," a.k.a. I had no idea how to dress appropriately—I wanted to look like I belonged, but not so much that I looked like a narc.
I settled on an oxford buttoned all the way up and an unreasonable amount of makeup. The evening took place in a dimly lit Hollywood bar, the kind of place that, under normal circumstances, I would never set foot in.
I was later told, by one of my fellow attendees, that said bar was allegedly owned by the actress Eva Longoria.