Over Anaylsis Of A Frat Boy Wet Dream (12/30/04)

Every time you leave the house is the start of a potential adventure. It's easy to forget, simple fact that it is, in our daily routines of work and school and home. It isn't likely, but it is POSSIBLE that any number of things might lie around the next corner,a winning lotto ticket, the love of your life, a lone ninja in grave danger who you could save so he'd be forever in your debt (just like in your favorite childhood movie). Insert whatever applies to you. All I'm saying is that every once in a while, some space/time rip occurs, the stars align and some random event crashes into your ordinary day like Lizzie Grubman on a bender. Something that will become part or your stash of anecdotes for dinner parties and smoky bar conversation forever.



Groggily leave house, walk across street to work. Begin doing basic job functions slowly and on autopilot, as it's cold outside, business is slower than shit and being that it's the end of the month I've read all the new magazines. Got nothing but the daily delivery of newspapers to keep me company for the next 8 hours and I'm saving them for when I run out of pseudo-productive tasks and the deepest oceans of boredom set in.



Fast forward to 3:17 am. Quarter of the way through the New York Times crossword puzzle, the entrance bell rings and I remove myself from the tiny back office, grateful for occupation. A girl asks if she can use the bathroom and I point out the door,hand her the key. A glance tells me she is one of my own , high femme...glossy dark hair and pretty in the same way soap opera stars are, a glance at the rainbow bracelet peeking out of the sleeve of her denim jacket confirming what my finely honed gaydar already knows. I smile, glad at seeing something familiar here in upstate hetero-ville. Return to the office and the puzzle and think nothing of it.



Enter girl number 2. Another one of my own, this time a cute willowy androgene electroclash dyke. Asks if her friend just came in, I point to the bathroom and girl 2 walks in. Think nothing of this either, girl 1 looked a little tipsy and maybe she needs someone to hold her hair back when she pukes.(Wouldn't be the first time that's happened here.) Return to office and try to figure out a 7 letter word for "small falcon" that begins with a K.The walls are pretty thin and the sounds emanating from the bathroom are most decidedly not some upchucking bar chick.


Surprisingly it is a song and dance I know well, "Shhh" and giggles tucked between kisses, the pull of a zipper and admiration of that area just below the navel, the result of a long search for flawless skin. Brash newly out babydykes,acting on long held longings and conquests in backseats and bars and alleyways late at night. Lipstick smears on men's dress shirts, tears in fishnet and the first tastes of a not unfamiliar salty sweetness, the same but different. Images I used to know.... a person I used to be, before I exercise my right, utilized the "bi" in "bisexual" and ran off to the isle of monogamy with a darling, difficult much loved tangle of a man...the person I gave up to be his alone.

Just because you've bought and love the house it doesn't mean you don't sometimes miss the money...the possibilities of what else you could've had if the cards had been played a few pair differently. The tradeoffs of any decision, the path not taken and all that.I caught a glimpse in the security mirror of two rumpled women, flushed, with satiated smiles,holding hands as they wandered off into the night.


Thus ends my overanalysis of two girls having sex in my bathroom, construct a more pornographic version if it suits you. I wouldn't keep a journal if I was too greedy to share myself,or at least the self reflected in my stories.






Oh by the way, in case any of you were wondering, the seven letter word for "small falcon" is kestrel. According to a google search, it's a small hawk,beautiful and difficult for anyone but the most experienced of falconers to handle, due to the speed at which it snatches up that which it wants then flies rapidly away,seemingly unaware of the attempts to train it to accept limitations.