Faster Pussycat was a Lesbian theme pop-up bar in the South of Market area of San Francisco. Located on Howard Street, "The Cat" as it was sometimes referred to by its regulars was open one night a week in a club space that was primarily used under a different name. The club got its name (I believe) from an old cult B movie from 1965 of the same name. Frankly, the movie wasn't that great, IMO.
Every now and then I come up with an inspired idea. Sometimes they even work out. I decided to have some business cards printed up with my name (Nom de plume really) on them that read:
Jay Sonnet
Muff Diving Expert
Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back
On demand service 24/7
[my cell phone number]
So I dress in a fairly casual/professional manner, suitable for a SOMA night club, and walk into the place one night about 9:15 pm. Doors open at 8 pm, close about 1 am. I take in the scene in a quick look around. Club is pretty nondescript, a lot of black and bad lighting, Nearly 100% female clientele, girl band on stage playing some god-awful thrasher music. I strolled up to the bar, sat on a stool and ordered a French 75. For those who are not up on cocktails, a French 75 is two parts champagne, one part gin, a and ½ part each of simple syrup and lemon juice, served with a twist of lemon peel in a champagne glass. Totally delicious and refreshing with a kick like the famous French artillery piece from World War One from which it got its name.
The bartenders name is Kelly. She was tall, nearly six feet, slim in a not quite boyish sort of way, very pretty face and blond hair cut into a tapered bowl style. Tee shirt and chinos. Nice smile. She checked me out with a look that said, what the fuck are you doing in here?
OK. I'm nearly 60, 6-3, steel gray hair. I do not exactly fit the profile of the typical clientele.
She says sure, makes the drink and charges me $11. I pay then take a sip, smile and allow how it's good.
"You do realize that this is a Lesbian club, right?"
"Yep. Did some research. Decided I'd like to check it out."
"Most of the girls here are between 18 and 35. You look twice that."
"Got it. I do because I am."
"I kind of doubt anyone here is looking to get picked up by and old man."
"That kind of hurts my feelings, you know. I don't feel like an old man. I understand that the sexual orientation of most of these ladies puts me at a considerable disadvantage. However, I'm not looking for a date."
"Well, you seem to have a sense of humor. I'm Kelly."
"Pleased to meet you Kelly. My name is Jay."
She went off to take the orders of a few other customers, most of which were giving me a wide berth. I resisted the impulse to check how my pits smelled...probably the male pheromones, I thought, are acting like insect repellent.
A few minutes later she came back, looked me straight in the eye and asked, "So why ARE you here, Jay."
"Actually Kelly, I was hoping to find some new clients."
"Oh, so you're a salesman?"
"Not exactly," I said, giving her my most winning smile.
"OK, so what's the product."
Actually, I provide a service. Here's my card."
She took it and looked at it for a moment before her eyes got big and her jaw fell open."