I went out. To the gay club, of course. I had so much fun. Like crazy amounts of fun. I went with a friend from high school. She looks very gay. She has a husband. It is fucking awesome. This is how it works. Lesbians are drawn to her, because she looks gay. Then I'm there, and I say no she is straight, but I'm game. That's pretty much happily ever after.
The best part of going to a gay bar with my straight friends is that they are so in to it. It cracks me up. This girl is hot. (Like hottest lez in there besides me hot. Like dimples for days hot. Like so pretty she can pull off a shaved head hot.) She wants me. I want her. We are dancing. Then me and my friend talk and we are laughing and dancing. Then without me prompting she looks for girlfriend and tells me the status. She is talking about you to her friends, she is looking over here every 3 seconds, etc. It's great. It's like I barely have to participate, but I do. Oh, lord, did I ever. We danced all night, until 2 in the morning in fact. Also, the more I go to gay bars with my straight friends I realize how lucky I am to have such good friends. Every gay girl that I tell my friends are straight and just coming for me they tell me what great friends they are. I love getting complements on my friends. It makes me proud they like me.
My favorite part of the night-
Girlfriend: God, you smell good.
Lauren: Say that again.
Girlfriend: You smell so good.
Lauren: I heard you the first time.
I could have listened to her yell that to me all night long.
We both parked across town, it seemed, so the four of us, holding hands, walked back to the car. I had not been on sixth street for years. Not even walking through it. That shit is crazy. Every second step is a fight waiting to happen. We are dodging drunk people left and right. People are falling down, people are being pushed. It is fucked. Never going anywhere near that shit again.
I got her number. We are going out again on Halloween. So excited. Keep you posted.
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