Meet Up
I.
The first time I met Jodi, it left little to be desired. I mean she was attractive...but in that
queer way
, complete with retro 90's Doc Martens and Obligatory septum piercing. Everyone else at our little Tuesday, queer, Meet Up was immediately smitten with her. Maybe it was her swagger. Or perhaps her voice? Maybe it was the way she seemed a bit aloof when she introduced herself to the group? It could have been her radical, for this day and age at least, stance of identifying as a "bonified woman," even though everything about her screamed "queer, gender-bending rebel." But she simply cut through the preconceptions by claiming "She/her pronouns
only
" when prompted by our group's leader.
Either way, I wasn't impressed. Call me cynical, or a cynical sucker, as I routinely attended this weekly Meet Up of queer, 30-somethings in my small town. I want to say that I'm normally not into such things, as I would usually prefer a nice bar or cafe. But like the other queers here, many of us found our way to this Meet Up, desperately seeking some queer oxygen and interaction that our small town was mostly devoid of. Many of us here were originally from here, had moved away to big cities for college and our 20's, only to one by one find our way back to this desolate, shit-hole town.
For some of us it was the pandemic that did us in. We'd lost our jobs and apartments or houses, and we simply had to come crawling back home to stay with our parents for a while. For others, they were coming down from divorces or failed business ventures and landed back home in this town. The latter is how I personally found my way back here to the small town my parents had decided to retire to.
Prior to the pandemic, I had owned a tiny coffee shop in the suburb of a mid-sized city. It wasn't much and I barely made enough to keep the place running. I saved on expenses by converting the basement storage space into a meager, 400sqft studio apartment for myself. It was small, but cozy, and regardless of how hard the day to day was, I was happy to run myself ragged each week because it was mine. Then the pandemic hit. It absolutely crushed me. Within a year I had to close my doors for good, and after a stint of couch surfing, I made my way to this little town to stay with my parents for a while until I could figure out what to do next.
I was at home for approximately 6 months when I discovered this weekly, queer Meet Up at a bingo hall down the street from my parents' house. By that point, I was very desperate for some community and, even more truthfully, the opportunity to get laid. So, I took myself down to the bingo hall one Tuesday evening and have been a regular ever since. The group was pretty small with only about 7 regulars and 3-4 floaters. Our fearless leader, Shae, organizes each meeting and they did their best to facilitate an easy-going atmosphere.
We would usually have coffee and snacks that everyone would bring, potluck style, and we'd all just chat a lot, make fun of the heteros in town, and swap stories of our different memories and experiences from living in our former urban jungles. Things managed to stay mostly drama-free, but there was definitely an undercurrent of hook-ups going on between a few members. So far no one had really caught my eye, but I was more than content to have a group of queers to be social with each week.
When Jodi showed up, it threw some spice into the pot. I definitely heard a few mentions of "fresh meat" when it became clear that Jodi was not a native of the town returning, but rather an import brought in by the new sporting goods box store that had just opened up about a month ago. Jodi was one of the managers sent from corporate to help get the store staffed and running. That first Tuesday she was there, she explained her whole story to my fellow queers. I could feel the tension in the room as several of them asked questions and flirted openly - all of them trying to figure out if she was single. She was well aware of this though and entertained the attention, but she ended up leaving early as she had a 5am start the next day. As soon as she left, everyone broke out in open speculation and admiration.
"She's definitely very sexy, right?!" Riza, a petite, curly-blonde lesbian said immediately after Jodi was out of sight.
"Way to be subtle, Riza!" Shae interjected, "She can probably still hear you!"
Riza shrugged indifferently, "Maybe I want her to hear me?"
"Riza, I'm right there with you," Cliff said, folding his arms across his broad chest.
Cliff's response didn't surprise me much. He was a burly, pansexual guy, and was a total flirt with everyone. No one seemed to mind though. He was very easy on the eyes with a head full of wavy, dark brown hair pulled up into a man bun, a pristinely manicured beard and green eyes.
"She'd never give you a chance in hell," Jamie, a dark haired, trans guy teased while laughing, "I'll admit though, she is very hot. I really liked her voice. It was...
sultry
."
"All of you are such thirsty bitches!" Neal, a tall, thin gay man in his 40s piped in, "She's cute, but not worth this much fanfare."
Riza rolled her eyes at Neal.
"Give us a break, Neal. It's not every day that we get some fresh blood in this joint. No offense to all of you guys, but it's been getting real stale up in here."
"Preach Girl!" Cliff said, putting his hands up like he was in church, "I love you bag of queers, but damn it's been dry as fuck lately. We needed something..well,
someone
to shake things up a little."
"Okay, Okay! That's enough," Shae exclaimed, "I would like for her to feel comfortable coming back next week, and I don't want this little 'drool session' to get back to her and scare her away."
"Yeah, yeah! Okay, fun police..." Jamie rolled his eyes. He then addressed me, "Jax, what did you think of Jodi?"
I looked up from my phone. Until this point, I had been scrolling aimlessly, listening to my fellow queers being thirsty.
What did I think of Jodi?
Truthfully, I thought she was attractive, but she gave me some vibes. She reminded me of so many of these "New Queers" that had frequented my coffee shop before it closed. They were this brand of extreme, social justice warriors steeped in white privilege while simultaneously vying for gold in the oppression olympics. They even had a uniform with their ironic, 90's blonde highlights, floral or Hawiian button downs, flooded Dickies or khaki pants, and Doc Martens or combat boots. Bonus points for tattoos and piercings.
I had foolishly dated a few of these queers in the past. It was hard not to as a non binary person in the dating scene because they seemed most open to dating across the gender spectrum. However, I'd also had bad experiences with many of them. Usually I would be initially physically attracted to them, but after lust had waned, I found myself with someone I could barely tolerate. Sometimes it was the obliviousness of their privilege. Other times it was the subtle, racist comments or low-key fetishizing of my blackness or darker skin. It's why I'd been single over the last few years and reluctant to date anyone in this small, majority white town that my parents had retired to.
I didn't know anything about Jodi other than how she presented, so I suppose it wasn't really fair to pass such harsh judgment so early on. I resigned myself to actually giving her a chance before deciding on who she really is, and I returned Jamie's gaze with a nonchalant stare of my own and shrugged,
"She seems nice enough."
II.
The next few weeks of Meet Up went similar to Jodi's first. We all got to the bingo hall with our snacks around 7pm. Shae would ask if anyone had any cool news to share. This would elicit a string of bitching about work, humble brags about potential love connections via dating apps, and gripes about politics - all interjected with lots of shade throwing and dirty jokes. Jodi would show up late, socialize for a bit, and then leave early to get ready for her early start the next day. Everyone, except Neal, would then gush over her for about 15 minutes. Shae would calm it down. We'd socialize for about another half hour or so, and then leave to go home. Usually, a group would gather to meet at someone's house or apartment for drinks afterward.
Sometimes I went to post-Meet Up drinks, but other times I just went home. I too had early starts in the mornings. I was currently working as a barista in a small, chain cafe in town. Luckily for me, small town meant early hours - 6am to be exact. It also meant that the cafe closed every day at 5:30pm sharp no matter what.
During these few weeks of Meet Up I sat pretty quietly, as I often did, listening to the conversation and giving an appreciative nod or chuckle when someone threw some shade. I also listened to Jodi. I learned that she was from another small town, and had actually never ventured to a big city. She had pretty much worked exclusively for this sporting goods chain since she was 15 years old. She had worked her way from cashier to a manager to corporate. And now she was helping with the launch of the store in our town.
I learned that she was not really into politics. She voted and she cared about a lot of issues, but had never been to a protest and didn't consider herself an activist. She also stayed as far away as possible from social media.
I also learned that I liked her mouth.
