It was a lesbian bar in Santa Clara CA, when I used to live in the SF Bay area; can't recall the name. It was about 5 or 6 years ago. Not only was it my first lesbian bar, there was karaoke to boot. Lesbian karaoke. Don't laugh. I went with two out lesbians that I'd only recently just met through a mutual friend, liked a whole lot, and wanted to know better. I had not actually come to realize I leaned that way myself; going willingly, even eagerly, should have been a huge clue.
I had an awesome evening and even got in a few tunes (R.E.M.'s "Fall on Me" -- oh, Michael Stipe would have smote me had he but heard it). I distinctly recall one woman doing a kick-ass Melissa Etheridge. Fondest memory of the night was my deciding to put my shoulder-length hair up into a twisted knot, securing it with a scrunchie (elastic covered with a tube of velvet). One of my companions looks at me and says, "When did you put your hair up?" "Just now." Surprised look. "Without a mirror?" she asked incredulously. I nod. "Wow. You just scored *major* femme points."
Monday, June 18, 2001
Jonathan, Rob and Ian have related their stories of their first gay bars; and Sandra has written to me with the story of hers: