Girls like her should come with warning labels, the kind you see on coffee these days,
Caution: Hot.
This girl was molten. I, of course, had no clue just how right I was, but I would of course be schooled quickly.
She was the type of girl I would've envied back in high school. She had long blonde hair which was straight and parted perfectly. Her lime green eyes shone like jewels as she looked around the bar. She looked lost. Yes, lost like she didn't belong in a lesbian bar. Like some date, some cruel boy thought it would be funny to leave her in a swarm of ravenous dykes. I eyed her with suspicious and furtive glances. It wasn't until i had two Cosmopolitans slung back I decided to approach her.
It was early spring in Detroit, and I was left not really knowing which set of clothes to wear. Tonight when dressing I chose a zebra print sun dress and neon pink leg warmers. Judging by everyone's reaction, I was making an intensely bold statement. My roommate, who started hauling my ass away from the computer to this place on Saturday nights to see the drag show, said I dressed like a five year old getting dressed in the dark. She may have been right, but damn if I didn't make it look good. I approached her table and asked if I could sit next to her. She looked at me, then at the table of loudmouths I had come from and nodded. I smiled down at her as I arranged myself in the folding chair next to my blonde bombshell.
I looked over at her and asked, "So, what's your name?" The lanky blonde leaned forward placing her lips to my ear.
"Polly," her whisper caressed my eardrum, and I shivered. The whir of the bar seemed to be getting louder and more intense.
I leaned into her and whispered back, "My name is Lisette." Polly smiled and slipped her arm around me. Her arms were thin yet strong, and I liked how this night was going.
My friend Carrie a fledgling drag king was premiering her act tonight. Carrie was my first girlfriend. We were still friendly. Tonight I got to see her transformed as Christopher. He (she) danced and lip synced to Maroon 5's "Harder to Breathe," dressed in her brother's old prep school uniform. Polly seemed quite impressed with the act as she set two crisp dollar bills on stage. I quickly followed suit and laid down a five spot. Christoper winked as he went by. Polly watched like a mesmerized bunny, her nose twitching every so often especially when Christopher looked at us.
When the waitress came by I ordered Polly another Gimlet declining another drink for myself. I figured I should at least be able to stand up right tonight. Polly peered shyly at me as she spoke in a soft voice so delicate that I had to strain to hear, even up close. She told me she was new in Detroit and had moved here from Charlotte, North Carolina. That's where she'd grown up, she proclaimed proudly. She came to Detroit to start a punk band. Polly said she also hoped to meet Jack White while she was here. She said one of her co-workers at the salon, told her about the place. Polly spoke until she was breathless. Poor thing, I wondered if this was her first time picking up a woman.
Since I knew my friend was done for the night I suggested that Polly and I go outside.
"But it's chilly. You'll freeze," she declared, her southern drawl flaring slightly.
"Good point," I said thoughtfully, not really sure if we could carry on conversation in the bar. Polly and I sat quietly for what seemed like ages. Then suddenly I felt her hot breath against my ear. It felt wonderful.
"We could go to my car..." Her voice sounded hopeful yet scared, like I would say "Ew, no!" Instead, I nodded and took her by the hand. Making our way out of the club was difficult, and I almost lost Polly to the crowd twice, despite our holding hands.
