Bisexual Girls Club

A Mellow Night in Brooklyn

In just 20 minutes I’ll be at The Sea and relaxing with a drink in hand. I’ll have just one drink or two and then head back home. Getting out of the house for a little while is okay for tonight. No need to overdo it.

Damn, it’s been almost an hour and I’m still waiting for this train to leave. That Shuttle detour took even longer than I imagined.

Finally! It took yet another half hour to go just one stop (at this hour I was not going to walk around in my mini dress and heels by myself. I don’t know these streets as well as Manhattan). At least I’m out of the station now anyway. So I’ll just make it in time for one drink at least.

Standing outside - it looks to me more like a Bridge and Tunnel crowd. Not what I expected from Williamsburg, but I came all the way over so I have to at least check it out inside.

Ah, what the heck, I’ll find another place. It’s just a little bit after 130am and the bartender is giving the last call already. That’s a few points off this place. And I heard it was the place to be. I’m so much more used to places like Cafeteria in Manhattan!

Fortunately it sounds like a party, though the place is a bit too large and bright. In any case, maybe this night won’t be a complete loss. It is going to take me a while to get back home, so at least let me get some semblance of a buzz going. Karaoke may not be my favorite thing, but at least it’s something that’s open. I’ll just have one drink and then try the more mellow surf bar up the street.

Wow, STIFF drink. And only $5… me likes, me likes…

Still it’s kinda noisy and people aren’t all that friendly – they all seem to be out on dates. I  somehow think Europeans got this socializing thing down better than Americans do. If I’m not on my top game, I’ve noticed that nobody is ever really that open to branching out of their own little world. I’ve always found that attitude to be very different outside of here. I remember when I went to Morocco, all you had to do was bump into someone and they would share their hash. Then you’d instantly have a new friend for that night. Let me check out the surfer bar if I can fare any better there.

***

Okay, that was another dud. Sand on the ground was interesting, but the drinks were at least $2 more than at the Karaoke bar and the company was not exactly pleasant. The place was practically empty and two of the four patrons were actually employees visiting on the night off. Some girl said she wore the wrong shoes and I responded, “When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.” I could have parlayed that (from some spam) into a good flirting technique, but her wimpy looking borefriend whined till she agreed to go back into the deserted bar.

At least the last place had cheap and strong drinks. Taking my own advise, I decided not to lose the lesson and figured it was better to go where I could enjoy a drink and at least that way the night would not be a total loss. As soon as I realized there was a Karaoke bar downstairs I figured I’d give it a shot – at least there was some possibility of meeting people there.

There was way too much sausage and the company wasn’t all that inviting. I mistakenly had such high hopes for Brooklyn, but I suppose this was just not really my type of neighborhood. Well, It was a smidgen better than any other place I’d been to so far, so I was at least going to finish my drink. A cute girl and her date sat next to me. Every time he got up I would chat her up. Hell, guys do that shit to me all the time when I’m on a date. Not that it panned out to say taking her back to my place, but at least it was temporarily entertaining. They had just reunited after some time. They had known each other in high school but never dated. She confided to me that she might sleep with him that night. Unfortunately, the bar had a very straight vibe. It felt a little like midtown Manhattan or even Queens. Note to self: Don’t come back. In the meantime I decided to enjoy a second drink before taking the journey home.
 
Soon I had a bunch of large unattractive guys make a few attempts at flirting with me till an older guy sat right next to me and just ordered a drink. I would say he was a bit heavier set than I am usually into, but he was cute and he made me laugh for some reason. We somehow got to talking about his gun. He was a cop. He had his gun strapped to his ankle. Wow, I wanted to squeeze that. It is taking entirely too long to fulfill that fantasy of mine. I checked out his badge. I took a phone picture with it. He bought me two or three drinks and a shot. I was VERY happy, despite not having too much conversation and not meeting any hot chicks. He offered to take me home after I told him I’d be fine going back via train-shuttle-train. It seemed like a good idea at the time to accept his help, but I did insist that I just wanted to go straight home.

By his car, I leaped on him and kissed him and it felt good, but I was probably high from the drinks and the thought of shooting his gun (his real gun not his flesh gun). He let me in his car, all the while probably thinking he would be getting sex. Luckily for me, I noticed he wasn’t quite going the right way and he kept talking about his place. I insisted emphatically that I had only agreed to let him take me home. He seemed worried that I didn’t trust him (which I momentarily did not, but trusted my fighting instincts well enough to prepare myself immediately in case this got ugly) and assured me that he would not try anything. He reminded me that he was a cop and he had no bad intentions.

He pulled over (at which point I was ready to run from the car if I had to, but he said he was just going to take a leak. I saw him get out and waited for a little further information before making my next move). He did indeed take a leak on the side of the road. Suddenly I needed fresh air. I opened the car door and threw up all over the ground. Some of it got on the car door. Phil the cop didn’t seem to get too upset. He just asked me if I was okay, drove me home and even kissed me goodbye (yuck-did he forget what just happened? Was he drunk too??)

All I thought later was that I could have really gotten myself into a big mess. Somehow I managed to use some judgment and also got a lot of lucky too. Phil the cop did not harm me, but he could have! I pride myself in being able to get myself home safe, but simply being drunk by yourself and going home with a stranger (who had also been drinking, though he had said he had sobered up, but was I in any state to really know the difference??)  can be a recipe for disaster. I am reminded that the buddy system is always best. It probably would be better to just improve on my judgment calls going forward. How many women find themselves not being fully aware of their surroundings after a night of drinking. Not all the people you come across will be as nice as Phil the cop.

Blazing Quietly on a Monday

It really was quite an uneventful Monday night. I knew I had a gathering to get to so figured it would be a night to chat up some people and get my drink on a little bit. Earlier in the evening, though, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to get to the party destination safely. It was shortly after work, before I made it to the club, that I was offered a quick smoke. I had mentioned that I was very tense (it had been a tough couple of weeks), but it was my intention to grab a cocktail and let loose that way. Regardless, before I knew it, I was outside, about a block away from the building I had just left, and going in the opposite direction of which I needed to go, waiting for my turn, thinking “ah, what is one hit gonna do really?” Even after I considered that I might inhale too much, I convinced myself that I would just take a short breath and probably not feel much of anything at all. It ended up being a pretty good hit, and unfortunately it took my heart and mind to some crazy dark places for about 40 minutes. I had to use up all my strength to fight the feeling of wanting to fall apart. My heart threatened to explode (it was racing a mile a minute even though I felt like I was moving at a snail’s pace); my mind threatened to implode (probably with the pressure of all the paranoid voices screaming in my head). My adrenaline was pumping.

I couldn’t get the right timing for crossing the street. I kept thinking everyone was laughing at me because I hadn’t figured out the unspoken pedestrian traffic rules… if there are no cars coming, you don’t have to wait for the green light or the yellow walking figure. In fact you pretty much look like a fool if you just stand there on an empty street waiting for the official sign. But what if I misread the signs and lack of focus and depth perception led me astray? What if I ran at exactly the moment that a car was heading right into my path and I broke all my bones? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Then I started to think about what people are really afraid of in that situation. Are they afraid of death or life? Because if there is death in that situation, you probably will just find peace. But if you survive and have to live the rest of your days in pain, then it’s life that you should really be afraid of. I kept thinking about my thoughts (what was happening to my mind?) and all the fingers pointing at me and all the faces laughing at me. I became almost paralyzed and wondered if my legs would stop working. They felt like jello and I knew I was walking unsteadily, even in my sturdy timberland boots. It felt like I stood a full five minutes at each light, yet I still somehow made it 30 blocks in about 30 minutes.

It had been cold out before I ventured on this journey, yet I was not feeling cold. I knew that had to be asking for trouble so I was sure to keep my jacket closed tight and my glove less hands in my pockets. I had to be careful or my self would begin to seep out of my body.

Eventually I made it to the lounge, but I was dying of thirst or out of breath or out of my mind. My bones felt very heavy and I could hardly hold myself up so I forced myself to sit down. The place was filled with dim red lights and you could hear the laughter coming from the basement despite the lonely and quiet bar upstairs. I had to compose myself or, I considered, I might get arrested (!) for public lunacy. After I sat down, I asked for some libation and the “water boy” quickly complied. He saved my life really. He sat a few tables away from me, eating his dinner, but also talked me down from wherever I was, confirming with me that although sometimes we over do it, we just need a moment to gather ourselves and then everything is all good. He got in my thoughts somehow and helped to relax me. All the time I was texting my hubby wondering when he was going to make it to where I was. He was stuck on the train somewhere in Brooklyn, trying to figure out how to get into the city more quickly. The “water boy” and my phone where my lifelines.

I had a hard time interpreting people’s responses to my questions because I imagined there was hidden meaning in everything. Did, “go downstairs and enjoy yourself while you wait,” really mean what it sounded like, or was it just a test? Did, “I’m a really cautious driver, you know drive at the speed limit, stop at all the stop signs,” mean my cousin was a conservative driver or was she talking about me? What could these text messages really be telling me? Who were these people? Could they be trusted? Did they see inside my soul or were they just fucking with me. It all felt so fucking deep, you know? But as long as I kept looking at my phone, looking at the time, looking at my messages, listening to the water boy, it was all going to be okay.

When I finally made it downstairs, 10 or 15 minutes after I arrived at the lounge, I was feeling quite uncertain. I worried that if I dared to talk to anyone I would completely unravel. So, mostly, I kept to myself. There were a lot of strangers. I wondered if they thought I had crazy eyes.

An attractive tall dude did actually approach me, but as soon as I said the “h” word (husband), he literally did a 180 turn and walked away from me without so much as saying goodbye. Clearly, some people did not get the memo before they stepped into the joint that this was a poly cocktail hour. Everybody who heard my story about Mr. 180 said that was his problem, not mine. That incident is not going to make me want to hide the fact that I am in a relationship because if it is going to bother someone that much then why should I want to know them. Yet still, I wondered which of my faults caused the unpleasant experience at that moment. Was it my stoned state of mind? The subtleties necessary when revealing your true self can sometimes look like a lie (which I do not want to do), but sometimes they are just well timed information deposits. Does my lack of mastery in this field make me a bad flirt? Am I just incapable of flirting with men?? It made me think about whether I’m really addressing both sides of my sexuality. What conflicts do I have that might lead me to push men away? You can work on one part of yourself for a long time, but neglecting other things for too long can’t possibly be healthy. So that’s something that I’m going to have to digest later of course.

Finally I struck up a conversation with someone and we began to discuss the true meaning of life. Pot makes me think about that you know. I revealed my observations from earlier as I had attempted to cross the street, and I must have made some sense because the long haired dude responded in an agreeable manner by offering his own two cents worth. He noticed that I was obsessed with my phone because I kept glancing at it every minute or so. He didn’t understand why it was my lifeline. He didn’t understand how stoned I really was, even though I might have warned him about of my state of mind. I couldn’t tell the difference between my thoughts and my words. My brain was slowly leaking out.

I exclaimed in confusion about one particular email. It came from an unknown sender with a picture of a Tinge Razor, of which they wanted to send me a free sample. Apparently it was a sex toy in disguise. The long haired dude found it odd that I get random emails from people sending me such intimate information (it wasn’t spam) and I concurred. That is until I remembered who I was and what my life was like and then I realized it’s not odd at all. Then I knew I had to walk away because clearly he didn’t even understand why HE was at a poly cocktail hour. There are many reasons why I would get a “random” sex related emails from a stranger and it was actually perfectly acceptable. I could not wait to read the message thoroughly and figure out what it was all about, but that would be later when I had a clearer head on my shoulders.

At some point, however, the long haired dude told me I was mixing metaphors and I had him totally confused. That was my cue to walk away because I was clearly in another world and couldn’t communicate my thoughts.

Eventually I saw somebody I recognized and I made another attempt to hold myself together and communicate. Apparently, unless I heard the name wrong (which is entirely possible in my state of mind), he was dating a girl Lex and I fucked about once or twice. Not sure if he was aware of that. I didn’t bother to tell him. He might have known it already though. I guess these things can become a bit incestuous sometimes, which is why we try to find different environments rather than going to the same things over and over again. New York is such a big place and such a small place really. And people really do travel in the same circles. I have always loved that you can feel so comfortable here, knowing your surroundings so well so quickly, but that too can be a hindrance to getting a fresh perspective. It’s good to get out of your comfort zone sometimes and meet people in different worlds. It is possible to find people who understand you even if they’re not necessarily living your kind of lifestyle and traveling in all the same circles. There is a whole other world out there that does not have to be poisonous to your way of doing things. It is one matter to have an inclusive group that sees the world like you do and is accepting of who you are, and another matter altogether to have an inclusive group that isolates you from the rest of the world, expecting that you would get all that you need in just one place.

In any case, this time the conversation led us to, among other things, the difficulties of dealing with younger chicks.

Just because I am older, they often seem to expect me to do all the work (as if it didn’t involve two people reaching out to each other) to keep things going and interesting. His comment? “Now you know how men feel.” I told him that I have found them to become cold after a night of sex maybe because they regret the “dirty things” that happened on the previous night, maybe because they lack the maturity to deal with sexual encounters and are afraid to become vulnerable to others for fear of losing control. And even if they may be afraid they tend to be more manipulative. Because of this, I often don’t know for sure what they are looking for and I don’t know for sure how to keep things from getting weird/awkward.

I have found that you have to allow yourself to be vulnerable in order to gain control of your life and find meaningful, fulfilling relationships, even if you are just looking for good sex. Connecting emotionally doesn’t mean you give away everything that you are. You don’t automatically have to have an attachment with someone after fucking, but if you allow yourself to both enjoy that for what it is and then attempt a connection beyond that then you will find your world opening up a lot.

Many of the younger women I meet, however, can’t seem to go that far. Although I do prefer to date younger women, because they can be the least jaded and are more likely to try anything, they can definitely be a huge pain in the ass. I used to think that men would be the worst in that department, but it turns out that younger chicks seem to be the most insensitive. Yet, I am still most interested in younger women. For that reason, I rarely actually date the women with whom I have sex. It’s not that I’m necessarily looking for a relationship, but well maybe I am looking for relationship junior.

I think that interaction with Mr. 180 stuck in my head. That and being stoned didn’t help… because I started to talk about how sometimes I am so uncertain about what sexual experience I’m looking for that I wonder if I am a big fraud when I say what sexual orientation I am or what lifestyle I am about. He assured me we all feel like that sometimes. I guess the thing for me is that my sexuality is more fluid and sometimes I really dislike labeling it. Giving it a name or label, you know, like putting it in a box, helps to find others who might be experiencing a similar type of life, who might be in that box too, but giving it a name also forces you to always have to either be true to what is in that box or become that person who isn’t really supposed to be in that box (like in order for you to fit in, you have to identify who DOESN’T fit in… one of these is not like the other). And that I find difficult. Because I am continually working on figuring out what it all means to ME. What if I just want a custom label for what I am, like a custom license plate… if I must have one?

And then there’s the matter of having to look a certain way. At this particular event, I wasn’t as sexed up as I normally am. Someone noticed it and kind of called me out on it. So I guess having to always look the part, though obviously is fun when you’re into it, can be aggravating, exhausting, and really kind of makes me want to not bother all together sometimes.

I really just want to have an exciting sexual experience with someone and build from there. I love to meet new people, but when you constantly have to rebuild something, it becomes taxing. So I have less energy to explore different aspects of my sexuality and it seems I’ve learned to tough it out with women more than with men. It’s not easy as a sexual being is it? If I were texting this I’d say LOL. Have to lighten the mood a bit. It’s not that terrible really. Dating is the best remedy for me…

Yes, I was going to some dark places that night. I probably would have just brushed most of what I saw and heard off my shoulders if I hadn’t been so stoned. I look forward to going back to that party and NOT be stoned. However, there was definitely a lot of fodder for later analysis. You have to be affected by it all sometimes, otherwise you’re just cold and what’s the sense in that. But if you’re affected by it too much all the time, then you’re mind and body and soul just become mush. And what’s the sense in that?

I walked around for a while looking for a free cocktail with great difficulty because somehow I couldn’t ask directly. Being stoned was really screwing with my head. I’m usually very direct. I tried to hint at getting someone to buy me a drink, but all I could get was guys telling me that if I really wanted a drink I should just get one… so not having the power to pull myself out of this mind fuck I was in, I had to wait for Lex to arrive and amuse myself in other ways. Yeah, there seemed to also not be too many women around, but part of the problem was obviously my less social state of mind. And I guess I give off very strong vibes whether I’m feeling open or closed up, so mostly people seemed to stay away from me. Until the junk in my head finally wore off.

But not before I happened upon my nemesis, who always makes me feel stupid, no matter how much I want to not care. The nicest thing she ever said about me was that I was a lot smarter than I look. Obviously an insult. That’s just what she does to make herself feel smarter than other people. I usually play the dumb girl in front of her because really, why should I even bother to try to prover her wrong. She doesn’t deserve to know what’s really inside of me. What helps (or doesn’t help) is that I’m usually stoned or inebriated around her because well those are the kinds of environments we find each other in. In any case, I made it through that interaction and I was on to other things.

At one point the “water boy” came by and I reached for his arm, thanking him for saving my life - calling him by his proper name as I knew it, “Water boy! My savior!” Realizing he might have been offended by that, I explained that is was honestly a compliment. Fortunately he had no hangups about it he ended up offering me that free drink I was waiting for. Of course Lex had already arrived and gotten me my drink as he had promised, but still, it’s always nice to be complimented with at least one free drink (from someone other than your hubby) if not five or six when I’m out partying.

Eventually I did come out of my funk and the night turned much brighter. I found myself talking to a woman, Jessie, I had looked at earlier who had, I thought, looked at me too… but I confessed to her that I thought she wouldn’t want to talk to me, and that I was also too stoned to approach her. Surprisingly, Jessie confessed to me that she too thought I wouldn’t want to talk to HER. My god! All that time wasted. Before long we were making out. Honestly, I hate to just jump into that and not give an explanation for how that happened, but there really is none. I mean, at first either I was not open or was not meeting open-minded people, and after, I was open and I started to find those open minded people. I think sometimes there is some magic about how I can flirt with people or soften them up, because when I can’t do it, I have no idea how to do it. And when I’m doing it I don’t even know how I’m doing it. I just do it. What I did do was strike up a simple conversation (which I was incapable of doing earlier). And from there, you either get someone who is receptive or you move on. Because dwelling on my inability to get over my stoned state was definitely not helping my cause at all. And certainly being under the influence of something that is really going to restrict your ability to reach out does not help either!

I also struck up a conversation with the coat check girl from the Valentine’s party. We compared tats and had some drinks and I started to plan my next Bisexual Girls Club party (officially in May, an unofficial one at the end of April) and things started to go a little more smoothly. But by then, the night was really over for most people. What happened to partying till 4 or 6am or 10am? I only feel asleep once in that situation and that was after some fun sex… but usually, even after the first round of sex, I can last a pretty long time, especially when it takes me a little while to get started! At least the Jessie and her boyfriend gave us a ride home, but you see, it was quite an uneventful Monday really.

Sexuality Map

Even in our complexity, we can be such simple creatures. Here you can just lay it all out. Will you or won’t you navigate this land?

Franklyn’s Map of Human Sexuality:

Find out where I’ve journeyed
on the Map of Human Sexuality!
Or get your own here!

For now… But there is still so much I have to learn about. Some countries I never even heard of… And then again, there are some areas I am definitely steering clear of…

The Contract

Yeah, so after the having such an awful experience in Long Island on that very long night, I came up with this contract.

Hostess Agreement

By choosing to be the hostess of this party, you are entering into an agreement with me. This is my business so although the demonstration is meant to be fun, I do have to be guaranteed the full cooperation from all attendees and that the event can be conducted with the utmost professionalism. Alcohol consumption is certainly not a problem, but if anyone becomes too rowdy, they will be asked to leave as I would not want anyone to feel like they are missing out on the full experience of the demonstration. Also, I need to know that I am working in a safe environment, especially since this is a one woman operation. I will need your assistance in controlling the crowd if necessary. Under no circumstances can anyone leave with an item without permission; they take it or they try an unopened item, they buy it (in this case only a credit card will be acceptable). I do not accept partial payments nor offer layaway plans. The only acceptable forms of payment are immediate payment by check, cash or debit/credit card (Mastercard, Visa, or Discover are all acceptable. A processing fee equal to 3.5% of the transaction is assessed for orders placed using a debit/credit card.)

I require that your guests provide their name and contact information prior to the start of my demonstration. This is for security purposes for me since I do bring items which I have purchased ahead of time for the demonstration and I will be passing them around in order for guests to get a representative sample of all that is available. For that reason, I need to keep track of who sits in on the demonstration. If guests arrive late, please be sure that they have completed a guest agreement before they sit in on the demonstration. For the guest information, you can either a)have them send it to me, or b)you can send me a list of names (first and last) with their contact information (email, phone number and address). I do not share any of this information with any one else and I can assure you it will be handled with confidentiality. I would only use it to follow up with them at least once, especially if they do order of course. I will provide a guest agreement similar to the hostess agreement at the start of my demonstration.

I, ______________________________ [FIRST AND LAST NAME], have read this information and agree to provide all the names and contact information of all attendees as well as take the responsibility to assure that no items are removed without permission otherwise I risk cancellation of the demonstration without notice and/or waive my hostess discounts.

____________________________________________ [SIGNATURE/DATE]

***

Guest Agreement As a guest at this party you are entering into an agreement with me. This is my business so although the demonstration is meant to be fun, I do have to be guaranteed the full cooperation from all attendees and that the event can be conducted with the utmost professionalism. Alcohol consumption is certainly not a problem, but if anyone becomes too rowdy, they will be asked to leave as I would not want anyone to feel like they are missing out on the full experience of the demonstration. Also, I need to know that I am working in a safe environment, especially since this is a one woman operation.

Under no circumstances can anyone leave with an item without permission; you take it or you try an unopened item, you buy it (in this case only a credit card will be acceptable). I do not accept partial payments nor offer layaway plans. The only form of payment acceptable is immediate payment by check, cash or debit/credit card (Mastercard, Visa, or Discover are all acceptable. A processing fee equal to 3.5% of the transaction is assessed for orders placed using a debit/credit card.)

Please provide your name and contact information prior to the start of my demonstration. This is for security purposes for me since I do bring items which I have purchased ahead of time for the demonstration and I will be passing them around in order for guests to get a representative sample of all that is available. For that reason, I need to keep track of who sits in on the demonstration. If you have arrived late, please be sure that you fill this out before sitting in on the demonstration. I do not share any of this information with any one else and I can assure you it will be handled with confidentiality. I would only use it to follow up at least once, especially if you do order of course.

I, ______________________________ [FIRST AND LAST NAME],

__________________________________________ [ADDRESS]

________________________________ [CITY, STATE ZIP CODE]

_____________________________________________ [E-MAIL/PHONE] have read this information and agree to conduct myself with the utmost professionalism. I am aware that no items are to be removed without permission. In doing so, I cannot simply return the item, but agree to pay for it immediately by providing a credit card number.

___________________________________________ [SIGNATURE/DATE]

***

Maybe I’m just asking for more trouble.

Sometimes I wish I could use something like this with everyone I date! I shouldn’t even have a drink with them until they first make certain agreements with me. Well, then I guess things would get very lonely pretty fast. At times it seems there is a lot to sacrifice just to find a good time. I can think of a couple of people I wish had signed a contract. I’ll just leave that for a separate entry.

Contracts can ruin the fun, but they can offer exactly the protection you need sometimes…