A Night in San Francisco: Part II

san fran.jpeg

Now this is where you’d assume I approach her and my life changes forever, right? I spot her. She spots me. All other bodies on the dance floor melt away and we are Tony and Maria from West Side Story, the only living beings in the micro-universe we just created through a mere glance across the dance floor. We walk towards each other in slow motion, refusing to break eye contact, I hold out my hand when I’ve almost reached her and she pulls me in. Tight. We say nothing. I focus on her lips while she licks them. I bite my own. Our eyes meet again until they close in perfect unison and we kiss. Fireworks won’t begin to describe what we feel. Earthquakes, nothing more than slight missteps. Together we are power, our passion burning hotter than the sun’s core.

If only.

It went a little something like this.

Savannah and I make our way inside and head straight to the bar to get our drink on and scope out any potentials for adventure. The bartender asks us if we’d like to try two titty twisters and we naturally say, “yes”.

I spot the woman in the green t-shirt from across the room. She’s dancing with two other women. They look like they’re just friends. Laughing and smiling and dancing but not too closely. Doesn’t look like anyone is boning anyone else in that group. I cross my fingers and down my titty twister before ordering another. I look back at her. Her hips sway from side to side and I curse god for making me human instead of the pair of jeans she’s wearing.

“You’re biting your lip. What’s going on?” Savannah asks.


“Who are you looking at?”

“See that girl in the green t-shirt?”

“The one we met outside?”

“Yeah, her,” I say.

Savannah quickly surveys the situation. I watch her eyes check out the girl in the green t-shirt.

She says, “Okay, okay. I see you. I like it. I support it. You gonna do it?”

“No way,” I say almost laughing.

“What? Why not?”

“Because women are beautiful and terrifying and make me feel like a pubescent boy who hasn’t figured out how to use his dick yet.”

Savannah rolls her eyes. “Bitch, please, let’s go.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me towards the dancefloor.

We know the drill. We do it with men, maybe it works with women too?

We get close to the object of my affection and her group.

Savannah puts on the “come fuck me face”. I put on the “come fuck me” face. We dance together in a way that makes men drop like flies. It’s nothing special. It’s nothing new. It’s just real effective.

She looks at me. She looks at me and I lose “the face”. It’s replaced with fear and nausea. I start to dance off beat. I stop all together, take a breath and then just sway casually, hoping I don’t look as awkward as I feel. Savannah rolls her eyes and abandons me, distracted by a big booty and a smile and heart that doesn't hold the power to break her own. The two of them make a non-verbal agreement and head towards the bar. 

The girl in the green t-shirt walks towards me. My heart stops, falls out of my vagina and runs away. I stand there heartless and dizzy.

“So, you guys made it in,” she says.

Of course, I had to see you is what I want to say. In reality I go with “yep”.

“I’m glad. This place can be fun,” she says, her eyes focusing in on mine.

“Totally,” I say with entirely too much enthusiasm. My heart scurries back across the floor to find me, reenters my body and has a dance party in my chest. “Well, I’m going to go find my friend,” I say like a stupid, scared, pubescent boy who hasn’t figured out how to use his dick yet.

“Oh okay. It was nice to meet you,” she says.

I fumble, "You too, of course."

I make my way back to the bar where Savannah is waiting with an open hand, letting me know she’d love to slap me.

“I know. I know,” I say.

“Here.” Savannah hands me another drink.

"What happened to Big Booty Judy?" I ask. 

Savannah sips her drink, a slick smile creeping across her face. "She's in the bathroom waiting for me."

"Oh, it's going down like that?" I ask.

"Shut up. I'm on vacation. You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be just fine. Enjoy yourself."

She kisses me on the cheek and leaves me.

I spend the rest of the night watching the girl in the green t-shirt from across the room. I dance with a woman who legitimately looks like Lil Wayne in order to get closer to green t-shirt girl, the one I wish I was dancing with. It’s fruitless. My fear wins tonight. The girl in the green t-shirt eventually leaves. Savannah and I leave shortly after.

In the car ride back to the hotel, Savannah tells me about the women she met that night. About the numbers she got and how they’re all going to stay connected on social media. Maybe she’ll come out to hang with them again next summer. I’m half listening to her while I pull out my phone, open my online dating app and change my settings from “straight” to “bisexual”. Closeted curiosity isn't working for me anymore. It was time to put myself out there. Time to explore this other part of me I had tucked away. In my mind, I thank the girl in the green t-shirt.

She was the catalyst. The final straw in my life that pushed me out of my comfort zone and into my truth. I thought that would be the end of it, the end of her involvement in my life. She would be nothing more than the inspiration that led to my next relationship (another story for another day). But boy was I wrong. She’d be back. When I least expected it…