So T and myself did something we don’t usually do that other day.
We went out… (no that’s not the unusual part).
With a load of dolled-up straight people.
Okay perhaps it doesn’t seem like such a bizarre concept, but it kind of is for us. We’re not exactly party animals anymore because, in true lesbian style, we built ourselves a little nest which we barely leave to go out clubbing these days. And when we do go out, it is almost exclusively either to a gay establishment or with our fellow gays to take over a hetero establishment. So gay times all around really.
But anyway, it was a staff night out. T has recently taken a job at the same place as me – mighty convenient as this meant I did not have to be subjected to said staff night out on my own.
The beginning of the evening started out at the house of one of the blokes from work. This was fine, except that it took a grand total of about 3 minutes to come to an unfortunate conclusion… We had absolutely nothing in common with any of these people. Other than, of course, our common employment - but that hardly makes for fascinating natter.
Hmm. This did not bode well.
But the severe lack of shared interests was not the end to the awkwardness. Remember when you were a kid and you went to school discos? There would be a very clear division of girls on one side of the hall and boys on the other, each group shyly peering at the other without the exchange of a single word.
... It was kinda like that. Except worse. The boys slumped in one sofa, the girls on the other, and the gays on the floor. Oh don't worry, we were on an exceptionally fluffy rug. Win. So it wasn't the friendliest of seating arrangements, but everyone conformed to their stereotypes exceptionally well. The boys talked about sports. The girls talked about their shoes. The lesbians sat in awkward silence wishing they were at home.
Not to worry. We washed down the slight awkwardness with a few glasses of wine, and before long we were all ready to head out to a bar. All was going well as we braved the bitter cold, until a couple of the girls started doing a little something that I'm sure the blokes all appreciated. Of course, they started making out. In the middle of the road. Marvelous. Nothing I like more than seeing two straight girls go at each other's face for the pleasure of men... ¬_¬ Doesn't objectify women or lesbians at all (God, I sound like a feminist - I assure you I am far from it).
Finally we reached the pub and drinks began a-flowin' again and the night commenced. Unfortunately for the boys, all girls present were in happy little relationships. No messy hetero drama for tonight then!... or so I thought. In actual fact it did not take long for one of the girls to engage in a very public argument with her boyfriend whilst the other two got overly drunk and began throwing themselves at random men.
Ah. Should we have intervened? Perhaps. But we instead opted for the safer route of simply watching the straight drama (strama?) unfold while we keenly knocked back more wine.
Fantastic. We just left them to it and went and had a little dance. And a smooch. Oh wait, bad idea, we're surrounded by drunk, leery boys. We all know how well that goes down. Fine, just a spot of dancing then... until one of our rather tall and legless co-workers decided to how a stab at T's foot with her stilettos. (I am in fact still hearing about the pain of this a week later).
By this point, I think we were both ready for the comfort of our bed.
We stuck it out until the very reasonable hour of 1am before fleeing back to our lesbo love nest. All in all, it was an interesting experience. But I think next time I might just stick to nights out with the gays.