To The FemmeMobile! Away!

{March 2, 2010}   Ah, internet dating. The things that happen.

So the other night I was out on a fantastically horrible internet coffee date. You know the ones, right? Where you go to  meet for coffee to make sure the other person isn’t an axe-murderer, only to discover that it’s far worse than that? And invariably they think it went really well and can’t wait to see you again? Yeah.

So I’m at my favorite coffee shop, sitting with my back against the wall, facing the door, trying really hard to be polite and focus on the other girl (really hard), when through the door I see two people in blouses and skirts walk in. One of these people was probably just over six feet in heels, and the other closer to 6’6″. I don’t actually remember the shorter one very well — the taller one had a fantastic red coat with red heels and a cute little knee-length skirt. I don’t know if they were trans, drag, or out on a dare, but I loved them. (Given age and dress, I’m actually guessing pre-hormone trans, and will write accordingly.)

I loved them on sight. I loved them for their guts, for their style, for refusing to bow to society. (I wondered how very difficult it must be to find such good clothes in that size, because neither of them was exactly short.)

I had a hell of a time paying attention to the girl I was with, but I was trying. I kept glancing past her, though, to the gorgeous, tall blond and her awesome red coat.

So, there was a painting behind me, and naturally it was covered in glass. Which reflects. Mid-way through a story about — probably her dog and how it bit someone, hee hee, isn’t that cute (I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP) — she glances up, catches the blond’s reflection in the glass, and says, “Ohh, that’s what you’re looking at!”

Now, both women have just sat down directly behind her, not two feet away.

She continues, now starting to giggle and wrinkle her nose. “No wonder you were looking! It’s so tall!”

It? It? I saw red. I was so pissed off. It’s bad enough from people who’ve never had to think about sex or gender, but from a lesbian — one who identifies as butch — I couldn’t believe it. (Especially since the red-coated women had already won over my heart. >.>)

She started to keep talking, but whatever she was about to giggle I cut off sharply — far more sharply and snarlishly than I meant to, actually, not that she seemed to notice — and redirected her back to her dog. I didn’t look at the women again, mostly because I didn’t want her to be reminded of them. But as we were leaving, I did stop to tell the lady in red that I loved her coat — something I’d planned on doing, but wasn’t sure about since my coffee partner had been such a jackass.

I do, however, recall reading a study forever ago that people are often afraid others will think less of them based on something stupid the person they’re with said — and yet, most people (assuming it doesn’t happen all the time) don’t do that. So I took a chance, and I complimented her coat, and she smiled at me and looked surprised (which kind of broke my heart) and then really pleased.

It was a fabulous coat.

Bonus: my coffee partner looked stunned, and didn’t say a thing until we left the shop.


aneke says:


The date that is.

I so feel your pain with the fantastically horrible internet coffee date (why do they always think its going well? what planet are they on?)

JB says:

Seriously, on all counts. Maybe next time I have a date like that, I’ll just stop being polite and start being rude. Maybe then they won’t think it went so well. 😉


I love you 🙂

JB says:

Love you more! 🙂


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