Midweek I found myself doing some research over at Rockwood Commons for an upcoming French picnic. I hoped browsing through the Wild Oats deli and produce sections would get my culinary juices flowing. The picnic guests who were to convene at my house are food snobs, while I'm typically more interested in the centerpiece design.
Looking at the fresh delectables at Wild Oats made me hungry and thirsty, so I headed over to P.F. Chang's with the latest CityBeat in hand. The place was hopping for 7 p.m. on a Wednesday, but I squeezed in at the bar. After ordering a vodka tonic and lettuce wraps, I searched out Savage Love for some sage sexual advice.
My friends all over the country enjoy reading Dan Savage's weekly column, as he never minces words and occasionally shocks even the worldliest of us girls.
This week was a juicy one on how to find two willing male strangers for the lovely lady. Oh gee, that ought to be a tough one!
Totally engrossed in the column, I jumped a mile high off my bar stool when the guy sitting next to me spilled his glass of chardonnay in my lap. I wasn't sure if it was a sign from God for my wayward eyes, but, alas, conversation ensued.
I decided my pants would survive as I shared in the humor of being caught reading a sex column in Cincinnati by my bar stool neighbor. He ended up being half of a couple. Rob introduced Laura and we became quick pals as I told them about the reading material at my fingertips. Turns out we all had an opinion. Imagine!
By the time my friend Mike appeared at my shoulder, we were sharing appetizers, stories and terms for stuff. I never shy from the juicy stuff, of course, so we delved into the whole bi versus straight thing as being pretty matter of fact.
Everyone has an opinion and a source of reference. For Laura, who was a theater major in the Carolinas, gay was assumed and straight was a pleasant surprise, though she added sometimes it wasn't black and white. For Rob, who was in the military, gay is gay. Mike's a native of Cincinnati. Let's just say he might fantasize about two girls and one guy but doesn't mix up the players. Me? I just listen and take notes.
Finally I threw in that I have a couple of gay male friends who share booty calls with guys who have girlfriends. Do the girlfriends know? I don't think so. The gang at Chang's scratched their heads, but then Rob and Mike brought Laura and me back to the two girls and one guy thing. Don't all guys want to talk about two girls together?
Laura and I yawned. We threw out "What about two guys and one girl?" again for oil on the fire to spark another round of drinks. Now the bartenders wanted in on this conversation. We were bouncing around like a good swap party, and all of us knew it was over the top. As for the whole gay versus straight thing? Laura said it's "heteroflexible" and it's cool.
And with that, I say we need another olive in our martinis, boys and girls.
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