Savannah

A Night in San Francisco

The story begins in San Francisco because of course it would. Okay, it was technically Oakland because the truth is always a few miles north of the facts of a story. Here's a little story with a little truth. I'll let you decide what's what. 

Oakland, the summer of 2016. I'm on a girls trip with a few friends. There's four of us and for the last two nights we've been drinking, dancing, getting high and chasing gay men in speedos while eating cookies bigger than our heads. We're lit AF. 

On the third night, two of my girls are beat. Let's just say we're not 21 anymore and a game of Go Fish with a glass of wine, face masks and hair bonnets also sounds lit AF to us. Two of them are tired but I'm still wired and ready to party. Luckily, I can always count on my girl, Savannah, to come out and party with me. 

We drop off the sleep sisters at the hotel and head back out on the town in search of...we don't know and we don't care. As long as we find it. 

Crossing back over the bridge to San Fran is too much work. Again, we lit but we're not 21. We decide to see what trouble we can find closer to the hotel in Oakland. 

After a quick google search, we're on our way to a strip of clubs all along one street that I conveniently forgot the name of.

Standing outside one establishment, the blue neon light illuminates our faces and our anxious souls. We're ready to keep the party going. 

Savannah is dressed like God herself in a skin tight red dress with curves that would make you slap your momma. I'm more laid back in booty hugging jeans and a low-cut, black tank top. When my girls come out to play I don't have to put much work in elsewhere. Besides, I'm pretty as hell. Hard labor not required.

Savannah approaches a group of women standing in front of us in line. 

She asks them, "What's the vibe like in here?"

One laughs and the other one says, "It's like a lesbian hip-hop club."

Now Savannah and I both live in different white bread cities void of hip hop clubs or black lesbians so our non-verbal confirmation of "It's go time" is written all over our faces. Neither of us will ever see anything like this at home and we're excited. Savannah is straight and I'm ummm, curiously in the closet? Closet curious? Either way, it doesn't matter, we're here to party and try something new so, we're in. 

I take a look at the woman who tells us what the vibe is like and smile. Tell her, "Thanks, that's all we needed to know."

She smiles at me in return. The pristineness of her teeth throws me off. She has a beautiful smile. I examine the rest of her face and her body and notice she's completely on point from head to toe. She has curly hair, that looks soft to the touch, a natural, like me. She's thin but toned, wears tight jeans and a loose, green t-shirt. She looks comfortable like she has no one to impress. She smells like lavender and she excites my lady parts. 

"God damn it," I think to myself. "I haven't even stepped inside yet."

But when I do... when we all step inside that den of precious sin and I see her start to groove on the dance floor...well, I can't deny it. I fell in love with her right then and there.