I was thinking that yes, I did indeed go out to coffee with someone, last November I believe. I joined a dating service because I clicked on it by accident and then said to myself, “Oh, what the heck, I guess I’ll do this for a month and then quit.” And that’s what I did.
When you are bisexual, there’s this dilemma. Dating services are horribly discriminatory. First of all, a bunch of them only accept straight people. So if you are female, you join this dating service and they assume that you are seeking someone male. Then there are dating services that you join and you have to choose. They ask you when you join if you are seeking men or women. So basically, they are asking you if you are gay or straight.
You have to click on one or the other. It’s like black and white. Is life really like that? Duh. But computers are binary, or the little thingies in them are, to my knowledge. I guess the little thingies in humans are probably binary as well, but we have far more little thingies in us than computers do. Or at least that’s how I figure it.
But at any rate, back to dating services…when you are a woman seeking women, all the women see all the other women. Honestly, I don’t like that, so I guess that’s why I clicked on “seeking men.”
I got a surprising number of responses. Actually, I got a date right away. I think within a day or two. It lasted 20 minutes. I am not kidding you. Maybe 25.
We had a nice conversation. I guess we talked about his trip to Europe or something. Then he just walked out, leaving me sitting there with the damn coffee cups on the table. He said he had to go home and do something.
Then, I guess I had another date, this one in a coffee shop, too. It lasted longer than 20 minutes, thankfully. However, he made it quite clear that I was wasting his time unless I was going to have sex with him, and furthermore, it had to be “good sex,” and on and on…talking about this in public, I thought, was not quite appropriate. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone, a woman, sort of giving us looks. Possibly she was just looking at Puzzle and thinking, “Oh, what a cute dog.” On the other hand, she may have been overhearing this guy’s obnoxious talk and thinking to herself, “Oh, geez, I feel sorry for that woman having to put up with this guy, bet she’s embarrassed out of her mind and can hardly wait to go home!”
Then there was another guy. This one I thought was really nice. Oh, at first. I never met him because he lives out of state. It was all over the phone. We talked quite a bit.
When you like someone, and you are lonely, you lie to yourself so much, you make excuses to yourself and when you see things in the person you know you can’t live with, you pretend those things aren’t there or turn your back on those things…for a little while, anyway. You tell yourself, “Maybe I didn’t see that.” Or, “Maybe he was talking about his friends, not himself,” or something like that.
I think you guys know what I’m talking about. Like those of you who have dated alcoholics or drug addicts. Or those of you who have dated child abusers or compulsive shoplifters. You deny. You love the person and I guess you are lonely or something. So something inside you pretends that the ugly piece isn’t there.
So that’s what happened with this guy. I didn’t see it…and then, suddenly, it was clear as a bell to me.
He was a freaking really bad racist. It hit me so suddenly during a phone conversation that I literally got physically ill. No, if you’ve been following my blog a while you know my body isn’t really capable of vomiting. But all of a sudden, I had really bad diarrhea, and I know this was a reaction to this guy’s ugly racism. I just sort of had to end the conversation. And the relationship.
As a rule, I don’t dump people. I let him dump me. I guess he heard my tone of voice at the end of the conversation, and knew something was up. Well, yeah, I was kinda on my way to the toilet real fast.
And in reflection, I knew that this guy was bad news to begin with. I figured he would have dumped me as soon as he found out I was bisexual, had I stayed with him.
So anyway, that was my experience last November right after NaNo with the jerks. So I was thinking about that very briefly today, thinking about being bisexual and thinking about the first time I told Joe I was bisexual. When was this? What year was it? Goddamn….
I started crying thinking of it. Joe did not judge me. You know something? He had no clue what bisexual meant when I first told him. Really, you had to laugh. But what he did was he asked questions, and listened.
Admittedly, some of the questions were a little silly. Some were naive. Some were ones that you’d really never think of asking. Some were the ones you usually get if you are bisexual.
We talked and talked and talked. Always privately. Sometimes, we’d be together or we’d be on the phone and he’d ask me if I found a particular woman attractive, or he’d ask me all kinds of questions about women’s body parts.
He never once put me down, or told me anything was disgusting or anything like that.
Aw man I loved that guy so much.
He was my friend.
He died August 19, 2003.