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Saturday, April 09, 2005

Lady Lady Loving

I confess, I have this thing for Lesbians.

No, I'm not talking about getting off on watching 2 women doing the nasty (although I am a healthy red-blooded male). Nor am I one of those tossers who are convinced that an hour or so in the company of the good doctor will "cure" them of their "affliction".

No, rather I am an expert at trying to chat them up without realising.

A randomly chosen case in point from a few years ago:

We had been having a social at Uni for the PhD students one friday afternoon. After consuming all of the free booze in the refectory, we retired to the pub across the road. It was a pleasant summer evening and we basically carried on as we had in the refectory, standing around in the twilight, drinking and socialising. Being a naturally gregarious sort of chap (even more so after a snifter of brandy or two), I generally like to introduce myself to as many new people as I can. Now I had spotted this young lady a few weeks ago crossing the campus. It turns out that she's a biologist as well, and works in the same lab as one of my mates. So I decided to join my friend and introduce myself. We clicked immediately. She had a great sense of humour and we share a similar taste in music and films. Perfect. After about 20 minutes my mate said he was going to the loo, and discretely disappeared. For the next half an hour or so we chatted on our own.

I was starting to get hopeful. Not only was she good looking, she was also good fun to be with. She wore no rings (I have embarrassed myself on more than one occassion in the past by not checking that little tell-tale) and hadn't mentioned a boyfriend. Anyways, we were chatting about why we got into science. I joked that I had sat my parents down one day as I had some news that might upset them - I wasn't going to be able to afford to look after them in my old age since I wanted to be a biologist. She laughed more than I woul have thought strictly necessary.
That's a good sign, I thought.
"That's so funny, it reminds me of when I came out to my parents."
That's not a good sign.
Now I would just like to point out at this juncture that I did not simply get up and leave. I have more class than that. I told her that I was glad to hear that her coming out wasn't as traumatic as it could have been, since her parents already suspected (How? Wasn't bloody obvious to me!). In fact we stayed for another 20 minutes before she said she had to leave since her girlfriend was supposed to be travelling up to stay the weekend. After she left I made my way back in to the bar, to see my mate smirking.

"You were getting on so well, I didn't have the heart to tell you. Besides, I figure you need the practise..."

This is not the first (or I suspect the last) time this has happened.

So gentlemen, if you see me chatting up your girlfriend, be very worried - not because she's going to run off with me - but because you might just come home one day to find her sitting in on the sofa with your sister looking guilty...



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