I have always preferred the company of women to that of men. It blossomed into a sexual preference. My first experience was at the tender age of 19 during the summer after high school.
I was the only female caddy at the Brentwood Country Club, a premier golf course in my town. I continually felt the stares of the boys all over my body and it angered me to no ends. On what I vowed to be my last day working there a woman gave me a new perspective. Her name was Cassandra Moss and she spoke her name in the stereotypical snobby pronunciation. Cass-on-dra. She was neither from the America northeast or Europe but she spoke like Mrs. Howell from Gilligan's Island, only she was much younger. Her clothing was always upscale and her look was well tailored and never hinted at sexuality. Cassandra had short blond hair that was well maintained. I had never thought of her in any other way than that of a golfer and an employer.
On a cool Saturday, the day I expected to be my last at Brentwood, she asked me to be her caddy. I submitted to her request and thought of her generous tipping. I was beyond words with frustration at the boys and their cat calls which were heard by Cassandra. I wasn't aware of that fact and neither were the boys. I am not good at hiding my feelings and every emotion is broadcast by my facial expressions. Before we left the patio of the clubhouse Cassandra reacted to the look on my face. She took my hand and walked me inside. She told me to go wait by the party room as she approached the front desk. The attendant listened to her, looked in my direction and then produced a key which he handed to Cassandra. She made her way back to me and unlocked the heavy oak door to the party room. We stepped inside and she shut the door behind us.
I thought I was in trouble but I could think of nothing I did that would elicit a scolding. Cassandra's green eyes locked into mine as she stepped closer. I finally eked out an, "Is everything okay, Mrs. Moss?"
"Oh, everything is fine. I just noticed the way those boys were upsetting you. I think it is time we had a talk." She took my hand again and moved us to the edge of the pool table.
"God!" the word came out in a big breath. "I get in trouble for everything!" I exclaimed in exasperation.
"Beth you are not in hot water. I know what you are going through, with the boys and other girls, and I want to give you some guidance." A soft smile now was stretching across her face and she took my other hand. Cassandra slid her butt off the lip of the pool table and turned so she was now facing me. "I know why those boys don't interest you."
I just stared at her quizzically and let her continue.
"They don't know and even you, yourself, may not fully understand that you are different." I began to see where she was heading with this. The rumor around the club was that after her husband died she finally could "love" her maid. I tend not to put much stock in rumors but now I wasn't so sure. I had never thought of myself as a dyke but I do spend a considerable amount of time thinking about women. She noticed the expression on my face and made a comment about a light bulb. "I want to introduce you to my," she paused and momentarily reflected, "no, our world."