Sunday, 14 October 2012

Lover I Don't Have To Love

Uni has begun!

(…alright fine. It began 3 weeks ago and I’ve just been slow.)

Last year me and R kind of hid away from social gatherings, not intentionally, but she had a load of work and I’m a massive introvert. But this year would be different we told ourselves. We would go out more. Make more friends. Talk to the freshers.
All has started well.

We went out to the one and only gay night in our town. We posted on our LGBT’s facebook page inviting any freshers to join us for a drink beforehand in case they didn’t know anyone else or where the club was. It was good! We were progressing. I was even talking to people! Success!
But there seems to be a trend with the freshers this year…

They’re kind of….whorish.

Let’s take this gay night out for instance. Everyone is fully expecting a little hooch to be going on.

But there was one girl there who was a machine. Me and R promptly dubbed her “Predator”, and watched in amazement as she waltzed her way around the dance floor and effortlessly picked up 3 girls.

Then…she started wiggling her little arse towards R….
 It was all fun and games watching her dance about R with a saucy look on her 
face until she started getting a little too close for my comfort. It came to the time where I not-so-subtly inserted myself between them and started a coupley dance with my lady.

The predator was entirely unphased by this, but casually yelled in R’s ear to ask if I was her girlfriend. When R confirmed this, Predator simply shouted that we were cute together and hustled off towards my friend K who then spent 10 minutes dancing with Predator and then a further 15 trying to get rid of her. (Don’t worry about Predator. We counted a total of 5 wins for her that evening)

In revenge, when a baby-dyke started very obviously hitting on me on the dance floor, R simply danced away, not even trying to hide her laughter as I awkwardly nodded my head at whatever flirtations baby-dyke was yelling at me above the music.

My word that chick was blatant. I’m pretty sure it was only when baby-dyke started grinding up against me from behind that R finally took pity on me and came to my rescue. 

However, this rescue came in the very inappropriate form of R attaching herself to my face.

That didn’t go down well.

Baby-dyke then spent the remainder of the evening alternating between lamenting at me that I’d rejected her, and glaring at R.

This, according to R, is something that has continued. Even at our weekly LGBT meeting, apparently baby-dyke glares at her.
But other wanton things have been going on.

There was the one girl that joined me, R and K at a table one LGBT night out and promptly asked if any of us were single.

No beating around the bush there (heh)

And then there was Predator #2. Strutting about the bar and shamelessly hitting on every lady-lover in there.

My word.

I told you it was the lesbian’s year for drama.


No comments:

Post a Comment