Falling for Change

by KC Lee

  “Swince I can’t alk o Phwoebe ight now I might as well ake you for a alk Warry. Wets go.” Larry jumped in a circle whining and tail wagging.

  A few hours later I decided I could talk without drooling on myself and called Phoebe back. She answered the phone after the second ring, “Where in the hell have you been all day. I called like twenty times! You are not still mad at me for not helping you out with that whole lesbian thing are you?”

  “Chill you called one time and I had that dentist appointment this morning and it left me a numbed face, drooling fool. I called you back as soon as I could talk without spitting and drooling.” I explained.

  “You did let go of that idea anyways correct? In fact you are probably getting ready for a date with some guy it’s Saturday night why are you calling me back?”

  “Well I did meet someone last night at the movie store. She had the most piercing blue eyes. And get this her name is Blue.” I rambled off as fast as I could.

  “Now you listen to me Anita. You better drop it right now. Your wannabe DAR, Republican, high haired, lady dress suit wearing mother would pull out her NRA badge and load her sawed off shotgun she keeps in the back of her pink Cadillac and shoot me if she ever knew you were thinking about this. Remember the time I went on that family trip with you to Key West? Do you?”

  I remembered perfectly. My brother Brad, Phoebe and I were walking down the streets of Key West. Phoebe and I were on spring break during our junior year of high school and my brother was a sophomore in college. On our way to meet my parents for lunch at a restaurant my brother began to snicker every so often but wouldn’t explain why. Finally, when we got to the restaurant we seemed to be the only family there. Everyone else was seated in pairs of women, men, women who looked like men and men who sounded like women. Brad being older and much worldlier (he went to college a whole state away) noticed the couplings a lot quicker than Phoebe, my parents or myself. He was ecstatic, racing to get a table right in the middle of the restaurant. At the end of dinner my father went to pay the check and my mother excused herself to the restroom, no doubt to fix her lipstick. Even on a beach Mrs. Mahn cannot be seen looking anything other than pristine.

  As we were leaving to wait outside a short, stout woman with dark spiky hair wearing a cut off and army cargo shorts waddled up to me. We said hello and she proceeded to convince me that she could find no pleasure greater on this earth than buying me a drink (if only I’d stay). I thought it was really strange since it was gorgeous outside and there was a beach not a block away but to each their own. My mother walked up to us a look of disgust on her face. Hearing the tail end of what the woman was saying she grabbed my arm called her a pervert and drug me away. All the while Brad was snickering and calling me things like a clit throb, dyke bait and a muff magnet. As I was trying to right myself and walk on my own my mother continued shouting things about me being seventeen and not an abomination of God or a deviant like the woman. Needless to say for the rest of the trip I was no longer allowed to wear my new pink bikini but instead had to wear a t-shirt and shorts even on the beach. Not to mention my mother followed Phoebe and I everywhere we went.

  “I do recall but I was seventeen. I am grown up, thirty years old; I can make my own decisions and do not need my mother’s approval. Not to mention I do not live with her any longer and there is no reason she has to find out!”

  “Right Anita, it’s completely reasonable to think your mother won’t find out. Just as reasonable that she wouldn’t have someone follow you occasionally to make sure you are not sullying the Mahn family name but you can’t fool me. I know that guy with the camera following you around once a month from a distance of 200 yards is not from a magazine doing a monthly spread on your vet clinic. She WILL find out. And when that happens I WILL be moving out of the country. She already thinks we should no longer be friends. Just the thought of you associating with a lesbian makes her itch.”

  “Stop. I will not dignify her bigotry with a response. What are you doing Monday night?”

  “I have a date. We are going to the new restaurant across town and then a movie.”

  Perfect I thought to myself she won’t be anywhere near the coffee shop on Main Street for Women’s Night. “Ok. Have fun. I’m going to take a bubble bath, drink some wine and go to bed. Talk to you later.”

  “I always do.” I could picture Phoebe grinning and lifting her eyebrows. “And Anita. Think about what I said. Please. Good night.”

  Lying back in the tub with a glass of wine in one hand I sighed contentedly. The warm water was relaxing and the candlelight danced on the walls creating shadows that were soothing. This is just what I needed tonight. I hate the dentist. It makes my heart jump and my palms sweat just thinking about it. I could feel my cheeks warm as I remembered stampeding over Blue today after leaving the dentist.

  I wonder if she recognized me? I wonder if she’ll be out Monday night? I remembered her eyes flashing with amusement as I looked up. She definitely heard me call her a jackass. But she didn’t seem angry just amused. Are my cheeks warm from thinking about Blue or from the water? It doesn’t matter either way. It’s just wishful thinking on my part that I’d run into Blue again any time soon. Tipping my head I finished off the last of my wine. I should really pull the plug on this. The tub and my brain.

  Chapter 4 (Bull Dagger)

  On Monday night I decided to jump in my blue Jeep and drive as fast as I could to the coffee shop so that I wouldn’t chicken out on meeting up with Becca. It’s not as though I’m nervous around crowds I just know that if I don’t go Becca will just keep showing up at my house and pushing me into uncomfortable situations all in the name of finding me a suitable mate. “Blue”, she’d say, “you’re not like me. I love the chase but that’s it. You, Blue, suck at hunting and would rather just settle down. So you see I have to force you into situations where the girls will come to you. It’s for your own good now shut up and let’s go.”

  There’d be no point in fighting her. I knew this from experience in fact way to many experiences. There was the amusement park she forced me to go to. She said she just didn’t want to go alone. Becca is not antisocial. In fact she adores large groups of people especially when she is the center of attention and she excels at nothing else more than making herself the center of attention. I should have known that was a lie and I should have known that she’d force me on to that damn Ferris Wheel. Whenever Becca sees an opportunity to simultaneously embarrass me and ‘teach me a lesson’ well she takes it. The lesson in this case was clearly never to trust her again. The embarrassing factor was convincing the date she picked up for me at the park that I’d love nothing more than to ride the Ferris Wheel and in fact if she could get me on the Ferris Wheel she’d probably get the best kiss of her life. In fact she knew it’d be the best kiss because what could be more romantic than being kissed on top of the Ferris Wheel at night, high above all the lights. At the time of course I did not know that Becca was the one putting these ideas into her head. I believed that the Ferris wheel was her favorite ride. I also believed the story she told me about how she could never find anyone to go with her on the Ferris wheel because everyone told her that it was a baby’s ride and not exciting enough. I repeatedly refused until Becca over heard and threatened to tell everyone what a baby I was. Did I mention I’m deathly afraid of heights. Like all heights. At any height more than a two story house I get nervous and sweaty and then it all goes downhill from there. I should have just said no. I should have just let Becca tell everyone I was a baby and let my date ride the damned Ferris Wheel alone. I should have let chivalry die that night.

  As the ride started and we began getting higher she began getting closer to me. We kept getting higher and she kept getting closer. All of a sudden she was kissing me and I couldn’t tell how high we were. I couldn’t even tell we were moving anymore. Then bang fireworks exploded in the night air. And no not the kind people in movies see when they have a great kiss with their one true love.
They were the real life kind of fireworks that amusement parks send off into the night on weekends. With this realization also came another realization. We were no longer moving. We were stopped at the very top of the Ferris Wheel. According to my date, the Ferris Wheel always stops when the fireworks start so that its riders get the best view. This was so not okay with me. I immediately could not breathe and started sweating. Then the cart started swaying and I started hyperventilating. Then the firework grand finally was going off and I was throwing up. So much for that romantic kiss she was after. Once we were finally on the ground I lay flat on my back for ten whole minutes, got up and ran to my jeep as fast as I could, only vaguely aware of their voices yelling at me to stop. Squealing tires out of the parking lot I did not stop until I was home.

  My sister must have found a ride home that night because the next day she called to inform me that the truly embarrassing part of the whole evening was the puke covering my back and ass. Apparently the spot I chose to become one with the land again was also the spot my puke had landed on. They were yelling at me to let me know I was covered in vomit.

  As I walked into the coffee house I was immediately scanning to find Becca. The smell of coffee was overwhelming and I felt a slight high just at the scent. The lighting was dim and I squinted to adjust my sight. The register was directly in front of me and to my left. To my right a stage had been set up already for this evenings open mic. Down about half way was a bookshelf and behind that lay eight round tables and four high top tables. On the left hand wall a couch, love seat and two chairs were set up around a coffee table for a different kind of seating experience this is where I found Becca. The place was definitely bigger inside than its modest front windows gave away.

  “Blue, glad you made it. You won’t be sorry. Will she girls?” Becca wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, seemingly at every woman in the place, which was currently about thirty.

  “Introduce me?” I gestured at the woman practically sitting on Becca’s lap on the love seat and the other two sitting across from them on the couch. Looking between Becca and her friends I was glad I chose to dress casual. The others had on an assortment of jeans, t-shirts, vests, and sweaters. Becca’s jeans were ripped, admittedly on purpose and she was wearing a thin t-shirt that said vagitarian. That’s Becca, subtle as ever.

  “That’s Marty and you know Jos and this little vixen here on my lap with the gorgeous smile is…” I saw Jos mouth the word Alexa to my sister, “Alexa.” she finished with a smile and nod to Jos.

  Alexa was just my sister’s type; what she was lacking in brains she made up for in boobs.

  “Nice to meet you Alexa, Marty, and nice seeing you again Jos. How have you been?”

  “Pretty good actually, Marty and I just started dating a month ago. We came out tonight because Marty is going to play a few songs for open mic. Grab a seat, the waitress will be back over in a few minutes. What do you want?” Jos said gesturing to the spot open on the couch next to them.

  After downing half my water and finding out that Alexa cuts hair down town and has mastered gum popping I wished we’d gone to a bar where the music was too loud to be able to keep a conversation. Luckily, Alexa had to use the bathroom and I took the opportunity to chastise Becca.

  “What in the hell are you doing with her? I know your standards are pretty low but really?” I looked from Becca to Jos and Marty.

  Jos shook her head, “ Don’t look at us. This one just showed up with her practically wrapped around her waist after we got here.”

  “I don’t discriminate Blue. You know that. I don’t need the girl to be my intellectual match to show her a good time. She’s nice enough and she does yoga.” Becca winked and started laughing.

  “God you are such a pig.” I glared at Becca. “And all of us have to suffer for your lack of judgment.”

  “Aww Blue. Don’t be jealous.”

  The conversation stopped after that. But, only because Alexa made her way back to Becca’s lap. I sat there for a minute thinking. I wasn’t really jealous that Becca slept with any woman who had a pulse. I was a little lonely but I could easily get laid if I wanted. What I was looking for was a relationship. Unlike Becca, I’m particularly choosey when it comes to relationships. Maybe I needed to rethink this. Maybe leaving out the majority of the female population was a mistake. Would it really hurt to be in a relationship with someone I’d eventually have to share my secret with instead of them just instinctually recognizing me for what I am?

  *****

  Walking up to the coffee shop I stopped to give myself one last glance in the dark windows of the storefront next to it. Yellow skinny strap sundress, brown two inch wedges with straps that wrap around my ankles. My hair was down and had slight curls making it end right at my shoulders. With confidence I held my head high and walked into my first Women’s Night as a budding lesbian.

  I noticed the stage set up on my right and kept walking to the tables behind the bookcase. There were a few round top tables left and one high top. Standing at the one high top to the left so I could see the stage around the bookcase I decided to just people watch for a few minutes.

  I spot a dark haired woman wide as she is short walking towards me and even though I’m not particularly fond of her leather vest, chained wallet and thick black boots I decide that the reason I am here is to meet women. Women who are lesbians. I recognize her as a butch with the spiky hair and white short sleeves rolled up to hold her cigarettes. I actually want her to stop and talk because I realize that I have never met a butch and this will be better than learning to be a lesbian via the Internet.

  “Names Tiny.” She holds out her hand. It’s rough and I look to my left then to my right before I decide to place my hand in hers.

  “I’m Anita. Anita Mahn.” I say as she takes my hand and gently kisses it.

  Laughing a big belly laugh and not letting go of my hand she leans towards me and whispers, “I think you may be in the wrong place for that tonight. If I’m not your type you could have just said so. No reason to be rude.” This last part was said in more of a warning than anything else.

  “No. That’s my name Anita. I’m here to find a bitch, a take home taco. My mother is just a right wing nut. It was her evil plan to name me something that would ensure I stick to the life goals she laid out for me.” I babbled the last part and just sat there nervously hoping that what I read about butch lesbians on the Internet was true. They are supposedly very manly and vulgar and treat women like sex objects even though they too are women.

  Tiny just stared at me for a long minute or three then her lips curved slightly and she smirked at me smacking the tabletop with her short, fat, rough hands and belly laughed. “I like that. Take home taco. That’s good real good. You’re definitely weird Anita but that’s OK we all got a little freak in us.”

  “Wait,” I stopped my nervous laughter, “How am I weird? I read…I mean you don’t even know me. I barely even know me. What did I do that was weird I mean I don’t want to freak women out. I want to get my freak on with them,” I say in one breath.

  Laughing again Tiny tilts her head to the side, smirks a little and says, “You’re a virgin aren’t you?”

  “I am not. “ I admonish. “I’ve slept with plenty of me… people.”

  “Just never any women?” Tiny cuts me off, “Huh that makes sense. You are way too femme in that dress and those shoes and all that jewelry. It makes sense now. So you’ve decided too many men did you wrong and you are gonna jump sides? Well you’ve come to the right place tonight. A coffee shop full of lesbians. I bet you even get your nails done. Just tell me one thing. Why on earth would a pretty little thing like you talk so vulgar?”

  I just stare at her my mouth hanging open. Not sure what to say. My first try at being a lesbian and I fail miserably. I close my mouth open it again and finally get out, “How? I mean what did I? How can you tell all of that in the ten minutes we have been sitting here?” I look around just to make sure no one else is p
aying attention.

  “What did you do,” she’s laughing again slapping the table, “search how to be a lesbian online?”

  I look up shocked. Oh my god how does she keep doing this. She must be a psychic. Are there even lesbian psychics? I guess there could be? Listen to me are there even lesbian psychics I’m going nuts already and it’s my first day as a lesbian. There’s no such thing as psychics. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe all lesbians are crazy. I jerk myself out of my head just in time to hear Tiny.

  “My god you did! You searched lesbianism online. Wow,” instead of laughing this time Tiny is just staring at me mouth agape, “wow. Let me give you one piece of advice. You, Anita, are no butch. Next time search femme.”

  “Uh, thanks.” I say as she gets up shaking her head and walks over to a table full of different sized versions of herself.

  I watch her for a moment. She’s telling her table of friends something while glancing in my direction. They all look at me mouths slightly open, heads slightly tilted; one tall woman in a leather vest with spiky blonde hair, a short skinny woman with long dark hair braided down her back wearing leather pants and a gray haired woman with leather pants and jacket on. Tiny says something else and they all burst out laughing, deep belly laughter.

  I put my head down and study my nails. I can’t figure out what’s wrong with them. They’re painted a pale pink. Not too long but long enough that they make noise when I tap them and I just got them filled so they don’t have a single flaw.

  “Nice nails.”

  I look up, startled, into blue eyes. “I didn’t see anyone walk up to me. Are all lesbians so sneaky?”

  “Not usually. I think you were just really engrossed in those nails of yours. The colors nice but I’m more partial to blue myself,” the woman standing in front of me said as she shrugged her shoulders with her hands in her front jeans pocket and grinned at me.