A couple of weeks ago I was in P-Town with my friend, Banana. We had just seen an awesome show and decided to grab another drink before calling it a night. Banana is the bomb! She is one of the funnest people I have ever met and is also my life coach - helping me to be slightly less awkward. Even better, Banana is straight but is kind enough to humor me and take me out to gay bars.
So anyhoo...on this particular evening we fond ourselves at The Hook-Up. The place was dead, but the drinks were good and cheap so we decided to hang around for a bit. We had been drinking before the concert so it was getting pretty hectic by the time 2 chicks came into the bar. They seemed nice so we struck up a conversation. I recall talking to one of the girls, Madeline and getting her phone number. We played some pool and then, because I was in the middle of a walking blackout I decided Banana and I should hightail it out of there. You know when you are really wasted and all of a sudden you just have to leave? Something sets you off and it's over. I can imagine what kind of hot mess I was by this time.
The next day, I figure, what the hell? I need to see for myself whether dating women is really something I would like to do. I consulted my life coach, Banana who advised me to send a text. So Madeline and I start exchanging texts and eventually set up a date. Now, I remember talking to her at the bar but I can't really remember what she looks like. But she seems nice enough so I decided to go for it. We agreed to meet up in the afternoon and hang out.
The big day rolls around. I'm really nervous seeing that this is my first endeavor into the world of lady dates. We were supposed to meet at 4:00. 4:00 comes and goes, then 5:00...so yeah, I was stood up. The thing is that this is not the first time I have been stood up, nor will it be the last time. I didn't have a huge investment in the deal anyhow, so I was ready to just chock this one up to experience. Madeline texts me later saying that she overslept and that being a bartender, she has odd hours, blah, blah, blah. But seriously, that's a lame excuse. She offered to reschedule for the next night and because I was determined to figure this thing out, I accepted.
The (second) big day rolled around. My apartment was sparkling clean, I was finally fitting into my goal jeans and I was feeling good. "This is it," I thought. I am going to answer the nagging question that has been in the back of my mind for years. I heard a knock on the door and my heart jumped. Madeline had finally arrived.
She wasn't exactly what I expected - not someone I would consider my type (or openly date - kind of like the "secret sex" episode on Sex & the City). But here she was and here we were about to go on a date. Madeline was very easy to talk to. She was fun and I had a good time. I found that lady dates are really rad. It's a completely different dynamic when you are out with another woman. There are no specific roles and it's just more comfortable. I enjoyed myself but realized that we really had nothing in common, except for the fact that we both like women.
After heading to a couple of bars we ended up at my place. I was pretty nervous. This was it....
...Things went well and I realized that I will definitely be going out on more lady dates. Madeline stayed the night and asked to borrow a pair of pants to sleep in. Unfortunately I only have 1 pair of pants which also happen to be my only pair of softball pants. I lent her the threads and she left with them in the morning. Bad idea.
After our evening together, I was sure that I didn't want to date Madeline, but that we could maybe hang out from time to time. She just really is not my type. And that's fine. Except for the fact that I REALLY want my pants back. I'm a cheap bastard and can't afford to buy new ones. So now, despite the fact that I am not interested, I have to be all up in her business to get them back. Needless to say, this situation is awkward as hell because now she thinks I am into her. I have been exchanging texts in an attempt to reclaim my sole pair of pants but it hasn't worked. Now that she thinks I am hollering at her she is trying to play games - not returning texts and flaking on dropping off the pants. I mean c'mon! Just leave them on my front door! How hard is that?! Now I am really pissed because I have no pants and I'm getting played. And I don't even want to be a part of that game! It's one of those instances where you were going to reject someone and then they freaking beat you to the punch. Dang! Now I am dissed AND have no pants! I'm out of ideas here.
After a week of texting I have come to the conclusion that I am just going to have to sacrifice my pants in order to keep my dignity. And damn, I really liked those pantalones. I should have just lied and said I didn't have any pants to share. When I dated men, this was never an issue. It's not like some dude wants to borrow your clothes. I guess I have a lot to learn. But I will say that I did score a few tips from this debacle:
1. Don't lend out your clothes to hoes
2. Lady dates are good
3. Some women are dicks
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