A real life desperate housewife

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I have entered the land of the housewife… it’s a wild, untamed land that apparently is devoid of social rules when engaged in conversation with two lesbians.

Let me rephrase that, Cee and I went over to the house of our daughter’s friend. We had appies and wine with our daughter’s friends mom. We had a lovely time, but I couldn’t help but wonder, why the hell does the woman stare with such “blue steel”  brown eyes at me? “Blue Steel” was code for I want to eat you like a sushi buffet. Was she staring at Cee the same way? Was there something on my shirt? Or… I came to the realization that this 45 year old desperate housewife was hitting on me!

The reason I didn’t come to this conclusion sooner, was that I hadn’t really been expecting to be hit on and it had been awhile since someone openly flirted with me.

As the wine was poured and appies devoured, we spoke about our lives with lively candor until deeper subjects about family and personal lives were unearthed. We touched on lighter subjects about our lives first, then more personal aspects of being LGBT. Conversation gave way to how I discovered I was gay, then of course came the three letter word that usually only adults comfortable with one another speak of. Sex.

For some reason, people who were strangers an hour ago, feel it’s ok to speak of your sex life when you fall under the LGBTQ umbrella. It’s like there’s this insatiable hunger for knowledge that people outside the umbrella don’t know – and they feel it is ok to overstep regular social constructs to get said knowledge. Oh yes… she went there.

It’s been awhile for me– having a stranger ask about my sex life — so I was slightly caught off guard. Cee seemed to handle it better. I kept to one word answers mostly. “Who goes on top?” “Who wears the strap on?” Questions hung in the air like little cartoon bubbles. Her insatiable curiosity would be obvious as to why she was asking the questions. We had a barsexual ladies and gentlemen!

She assured us she was no barsexual, that she had had a threesome (which somehow included her husband watching but not participating?-which I think would be classified as having sex with another woman and having him watch, but I could be wrong…) Bingo. This lady totally wanted to fool around with us. I was more sober than not at this point and tried to steer the conversation off the topics it had settled to.

It was flattering knowing that if, and it’s a big IF we wanted to, we could. But we politely steered the subject to more lighter topics. I mentioned to Cee we should be going as I had to work the next day. “No, no, we couldn’t stay in the spare room,” I told her. Was I growing up? Being responsible? Yes. For everyone involved.

Later, Cee told me that that sort of thing happened all the time. “What sort of thing?” I asked. “That people just see me as bisexual and assume I want to have sex with everyone.” I thought about it. That didn’t sound fair. I didn’t assume Cee would want to have sex with everyone–but then I remembered— once upon a time, I didn’t date bisexuals for that reason — because they could fall in love with anyone. A stereotype I’m glad that I have seen myself break. Just because someone identifies as bisexual, does not mean that they will sleep with anyone and everyone.

Last night, I was flattered. But this morning I was glad that I woke up next to the love of my life. That’s what matters. And if nothing else comes of this friendship with our daughter’s friends mom besides being our daughter’s friends mom, so be it. Maybe we made a friend along the way. We could always use one of those.

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