After ditching the St. Patty’s day festivities on Bourbon St., we headed home, changed clothes and made the drive across town to the local lesbian bar.
When we got there, a few minutes after midnight, the place was already jumping, we quickly paid our cover, set up our tab at the bar and set about mingling. After a few drinks and some surveying, we decided to split up, I made my way to a back corner where I could stay out of sight for a bit and Crystal went to the dance floor where she started watching and maneuvering the crowd.
Sometime around then, while I was distracted watching the room from my corner, a girl with short brunette hair sat down next to me on the bench. She sat some distance away and seemed uninterested in me, I thought nothing of it. That is, until she got my attention.
She tapped me on my knee and I turned to face her. I leaned in so I could hear over the blaring music. “Your lesbian girlfriend,” she said with a very thick accent, “is she coming back? Where did she go?”
“She’s out having fun, dancing probably, you can talk to her if you want,” I said motioning toward the floor.
The girl looked confused, “I speak… little English.”
“Hablo poco espanol,” I responded, detecting her accent. She giggled to herself and, between the two of us were we able to exchange names, hers was B, and confirm that Crystal did indeed like girls. As the product of four years of public education Spanish, this was the best that I could do.
It was about then that Crystal saw what was going on and came over to visit us. I introduced the two of them, the best that I could, and Crystal told me one of our friends from the first night there, M, had just arrived. Piqued and eager to meet her again, I left Crystal and B alone to go talk with her.
A Comedy of Languages
M is from Honduras and a native Spanish speaker. She showed a great deal of interest in us the first time we were there but things ended before we could make more of it. Still, she was a good friend that night, introduced us to a lot of other people but we had lost contact with her up to that night. She was also the only familiar face there.
Meanwhile, Crystal and B were getting along well, conversation was stilted and hard, but the body language was there. The two were flirting, smiling and giggling. Things were moving along nicely. I joined in the conversation from time to time, helping translate when I could and keeping things going during dead times. The night was going great.
We talked with her for over two hours, including shooting two games of pool and dancing with her some. Hands were held, back rubs were exchanged and it seemed that, at any given point, the two of them were just one kiss away from a make out session. They probably were.
The only problem was M. She would go off, disappear in to the crowd and then swoop in on B, trying to chat her up. She spoke Spanish, a natural advantage, but B had told us that she didn’t want her and I played the part of the faithful wingman, blocking her in, buying drinks and generally keeping M away.
As the hours ticked by, we found ourselves just about thirty minutes away from closing time. We figured that, if we could hold out that long, we could probably step outside and make arrangements. Unfortunately, our so-called “friend” swooped in first.
Sealed with a Kiss
Crystal and B were seated on a bench with M on the other side, I was coming back from using the restroom. When I turned around the corner and crossed the now-empty dance floor, I saw M and B talking closely. When I walked up to play wing man again, I noticed that they were making out and Crystal was on the verge of tears.
Pretending to be oblivious, and because my angle was bad, I asked what they were talking about.
“Oh, we’re not talking,” M said in a sing song voice that rubbed it in. Whatever the female version of cock blocked is, we had just had it happen to us.
I got upset, Crystal was hurt and we stormed out. I only paused for a moment to tell M exactly what I thought of her actions, saying it was a “pretty shitty thing to do to someone you called a friend a few hours ago” and we left.
Crystal was so mad at herself and M that she was crying the whole drive home. I was mad too, frustrated at least, but I knew that the truth was we should have had B, likely long before things turned south.
M certainly is a bitch and she did a very cruel thing, thus she will henceforth be known as “M the Bitch” on this site for clarification purposes, but we made mistakes too. If we had played our cards right, things would have ended very differently.
Mistakes Were Made
When we made it home, we took some time to calm down and then talk about what happened and what went wrong. A pattern quickly emerged.
In the past, the girlfriends we’ve met have always been the aggressors. They approached us, without fail. I didn’t realize that, but it’s true. Crystal is a VERY passive person and doesn’t like making the first move. B, apparently was the same way but M the Bitch was not.
Crystal is also a master conversationalist. She can talk anyone into doing just about anything. However, in a noisy club with a language barrier, her “talking up” ability is useless. Sadly, she’s not very familiar with body language cues. She’s never had to play that game (having met more people at coffee shops and only a few at bars) and doesn’t know how to read the signs.
For me, body language is more natural. I studied it as a journalist to help with interviewing skills, in college I learned the tricks of the trade for gypsies and fortune tellers and in more recent times, I’ve used it to read flirting and interest. I spotted two girls that had an interest in Crystal before she did, both were eventually screaming in pleasure in our bedroom.
I’m no expert at it, but I know how to read it. That’s why last night was such a frustrating experience. The spoken word was muddled, but the body language was clear. In the end, it was just another language barrier that couldn’t be crossed.
So Crystal and I spent some time last night on body language. I showed her some of the signs and signals I have picked up and that led to more than a few “Oh, I see…” moments when referencing back to the night that was.
Still, we both need to further our education some. We’re going to head to the bookstore in a bit and pick up a few books on body language and bone up. I might also see if they have some of my old favorites on the topic as they are in storage right now.
The main thing though is that we’re going to learn from this mistake and not repeat it. Neither of us are experts at bar environments and, though we’re not sure it’s even what we want (it can be a bit meat market-like) , but we know that we need to play the game anywhere we go.
Simply put, this is something too important to skimp on. We can not count on girlfriends approaching us, as they have in the past. That reduces our opportunities many-fold and, worst of all, runs the risk of letting “the one” get away.
Conclusions
All in all, after a good night’s rest, I’m not that upset about what happened. B was not going to be a long-term thing and she really wasn’t the ideal girl for us anyway, even for a night. She would have been fun and I would have liked to see where things went, but there were many women there that were more beautiful to us.
Besides, even without the interference of M the Bitch and the uncertainty on Crystal’s part, there’s absolutely no guarantee that things would have worked out at all, many other obstacles remained.
Today and tonight though, we’re going to head to more familiar territory, coffee shops and bookstores. Maybe we’ll see someone there, maybe not. Either way, we’re going to enjoy some good company. Each other.
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