Lesbian Dating 101

Clam Shacks and Strip Clubs

You can't make this shit up…. Seriously!!

Earlier in the Summer I went on two dates with this chick I met at Pride… and by met, I mean I was inebriated on the dance floor – trying to rock out my British roots to Salsa music – Because THAT was good fucking idea!! (We invented Punk and the Beatles– do the math). Apparently, said Chiquita, took pity on me and decided I may be able to hang onto a shred of my dignity if I were seen heavily making out on the dance floor rather than attempting my royalty inspired Latin moves.

After saving me from myself, she chivalrously led me outside – where we proceeded to exchange names in the doorway of a fancy designer furniture store. For those of you that know me…. You know how much I LOVE well designed, European inspired furniture!! I saw it as a cosmic sign…. and gave up my phone number.

It wasn't but two hours later that I was in the parking garage waiting for AAA to come change the tire on my friends car – that my new found Latin love called to talk to me in Spanish. Holy Cosmos!!! I mean …. I have a long standing love affair with mainland Spain, I spent much of my childhood there and yet sadly, the only things I can actually communicate are : "Do you want another drink ma-am?"; "with ice?"; "Here's your change!"; "I'm crazy for you" and "That is very large".

Subsequently, the conversation traveled down a path I don't think I was really ready to travel. I could have said go down, but that would have been a little tacky.

Our first date… I kid you, not… was at a Clam Shack by a beach. I knew I was in trouble when I pointed out that it was ironic that as Lesbians we were on a date at a "Clam Shack". She didn't get the joke. Thank God for chicken fingers!

A daytime date ….no alcohol! Just sun, sea, sand and getting to know you conversation. I can roll with anything but the "sober" date was a big one for me. We strolled, climbed the rocks, lay in the sand. We talked about our backgrounds and our families… she asked me to help her with her homework. (Which was in her car – behind the clam shack… wink, wink). Naturally I thought it was a rouse, but no… she really needed help with an excel spreadsheet. She drove me to my car and we said goodbye.

The second date… she brought a friend. Now, is that a normal occurrence, because I don't date much? Even with my limited 22years of lesbianism, bringing a friend on the 2nd date is kind of a no/no… right? Well, anyway… we go to the "Hill" where her friend is totally obnoxious to the wait staff. Now I have this little prejudice – if you aren't nice to people in the service industry… I'm sorry, but you're an asshole. Maybe that's just me… but whatever!

So the "friend" is this nasty, greasy, leery looking 5ft2in bulldyke with bad teeth and manic, jumpy energy. Apparently she makes a lot of money, has been married to some chick she hates for 20 years and they have an 8yr old daughter. Perhaps hate is a strong word; there were moments when she did speak kindly about the fat whore that was raising their daughter.

When she could be bothered to speak in English and include me in the conversation – I gathered she really liked young, skinny, trashy straight girls! I recall her gauntlet was thrown to me kinda sorta like… "You look like a girl who can kinda hang. You wouldn't mind going to a strip club would ya?" Insert nasty, in your face, I dare you, leer. (Having been bullied throughout my childhood – I am the idiot who thinks they can take and raise any bully they come across….my excuse for being expelled from every high school – I ever attended)… so off we went… to the Foxy Lady!

My date thoughtfully walked with me to my car, so we could ride together to the strip club… I know I have a tendency to say too much but I swear, all I said was "Your friend is kinda stressing me out". Good god almighty, Hell froze over!!! I was berated with a diatribe of … I can't believe you just said that… she's a wonderful person… I love to be around her… she has a very calming energy… I don't think you are seeing her in the right light…why would say such a thing about her, she's wonderful… I didn't think you were that judgmental…

Whoa Bessie!!!! I was a little taken aback by the response and so the social backpedaling kicked in. By the time we reached the strip club, the dynamic between us was a little icy at best. I immediately became Chester – The Molesters', best friend… after ten minutes of this display – my date became enchanted with me all over again. It was magical!

The best part of the evening was having someone try to get into my pants in the parking lot of the Foxy… and by try to get into my pants – I mean she actually destroyed clothing trying to reach her target. That was my favorite belt too…fucker!

It was the longest night of my life. However, the drive home (alone) was joyous and filled with loud angry dude music about bitches and whores. Quite apropos, I thought!

I'm not truly clear on dating etiquette, after 2 dates… or 2 and a dancefloor/doorway experience… are you required to go through a break-up process or do you have the leeway to just never call again? I assumed it was the latter.

Apparently I was WRONG!

Granted, I was avoiding calls and not responding too much to text messages – until I got the "Will you go out with me again text?"

The phone lines were blazing on that one… Do I lie? Do I be truthful? Do I ignore it? Every single person had a different answer… What the fuck? My friends were no help, my mother, also no help…. Dr Phil had nothing on his website about it. Finally, I opted to be truthful yet tactful. I responded:

"Hell no, you crazy… clam shack, strip clubbing, nasty ass friend bringing – belt breaker"!

Ok – Ok – Just kidding!!! My actual response was:

"That's not a good idea. I have a lot going on and other stuff in my life I need to focus on right now".

I know it was a lame ass response – nothing about it was clever or even clear… I fucking panicked (remember – don't date much).

It couldn't have been that lame – it unleashed a Tsunami all of its own…. Holy Fuck!! The calls, the e-mails, the text messages… Apparently, you can't "text dump" someone after 2.dancefloor/doorway dates. Who knew?

You can't text dump … You have to at least call…You owe me an explanation…You must be seeing someone… Who is she…What's her name…What's wrong with me…My son was looking forward to meeting you…You are a liar… You led me on… I thought we had something…Give me one more chance… We had a connection…At least say it to my face… I hope you have a nice life…

I am grateful for this experience; she really taught me a lot. I'd been out of the dating loop for a while – so this was a nice quick refresher course in Lesbianism 101.


This is what I learnt from my experience and I feel a sense of community duty to pass it on to you….

Under three dates, the etiquette is as follows:
You do owe them an explanation. However, you are entitled to have a nice life.

Common Sense Rule 1
If a chick asks you to a clam shack on a first date – the correct response is "No, Thank you – I don't eat seafood".


May The Force Be With You