We got out of the car and Janine assured me for the millionth time, "It'll be fun, really, I do this all the time!"
'This' was going to a dyke bar, pretending to be a lipstick lesbian and cadging free drinks from the bulls all night long. What the fuck, I thought. Why am I even doing this? We had been on the Cape for about 6 days out of a 2 week stay when Janine suggested we go to P-town, Provincetown, and pull this idiotic stunt.
"It'll be a kick Liz, c'mon!" she implored.
"Why the hell would I want to go to a dyke bar to get free drinks?" I asked. "I can get guys to buy me drinks at the regular bars we go to. I like GUYS Janine."
"Well so do I," she said, "but you've GOT to see these places, they're totally wild. C'mon, you've got to see P-town at least once before you die!" she laughed.
I don't know why, but I agreed. Provincetown MA is at the very tip of Cape Cod. We were in Dennis, so we had to drive about an hour and a half to get there. The scenery was certainly beautiful, rolling dunes, windswept coast-line. This was the Cape you saw in professional photos, it had nothing at all to do with the Mid-Cape honky tonk shops and hotels found along Route 28.
P-town itself was as advertised; a trip. Picture a quaint New England town. Cape style houses, gray cedar shingles, primrose bushes - with a guy in butt-less leather chaps walking down the street holding hands with a bearded guy in drag. Janine was right, it was a hoot.
The town was mostly gay men, but there were a fair percentage of girl-girl couples strolling around, maybe 2 to 1. We parked the car near a bar called Fish with a Bicycle.
"This is it," Janine told me. "This is a lesbian bar, wait'll you see it!"
We went in and, honestly, it wasn't much different from a hundred other bars I had been in. The décor was possibly a little more subdued, lacking in the usual testosterone laden sports images, but a bar none the less. About the only thing different in this was the clientele; all women.
They ran the gamut from 'normal' looking, sundress clad girls like Janine and me to cropped haired bulls and everything in between.
We went to the bar. No one offered to buy us a drink in spite of Janine's promises. I bought my own Apple Martini.
It was strange in there, but once the initial shock wore off, not unpleasant. The bar was comfortable, unthreatening. The music loud, but not so loud as to prevent conversation. Janine and I chatted and it was kind of nice not having to fend off male attention. Look, I'm not a supermodel or anything, but I can say I'm fairly attractive without fear of contradiction. When I go into a bar, I get noticed. I'm not bragging, I just do.
Anyway, Janine went to the ladies room. She was gone for a minute or two when I heard someone say, "Hi," from behind me.
I turned and a woman smiled at me. She was about my height, about my age, twenty-something, with dark brown hair crew-cut short. No make-up but that didn't mean she was nasty or anything. She was actually quite pleasant looking. Slim, ok, ok, 'boyish' – ha, how cliché, I know. Jeans and a white tee shirt. She reminded me of nothing so much as a 15-year-old boy. A delicate looking, kinda cute 15 year old boy.
"Hi," I replied.
"I haven't seen you here before," she said. "I'm Billie."
"Liz," I replied with a sardonic smile. I stuck my hand out and we shook. She had a firm grip but it was far from 'man-ish'. "No, this is my first time here. Are you a regular?"
She laughed, "Yeah, I guess so. I live here year round, I'm one of the few that braves the Lower-Cape winters."
"Must get quiet," I said.
"You have no idea," she laughed again. "I saw you come in with another girl, is she your lover?"
"Janine?" I replied, "No, no, we're just friends." Changing the subject as quickly as possible, I asked, "So what do you do here in the winter time?"
"I'm a painter, I show my work here in the summer, in Providence in the off season," she replied, sitting on a stool next to mine.
"Wow, that's neat," I said, rather inanely. "Um, do you do well at that?"
She laughed again, she had a rather infectious laugh and I found myself smiling along with her, "No, I don't starve, but I certainly don't do 'well'. Still, I'm my own boss, I have enough to eat, I'm doing what I love and I live on one of the most beautiful places on earth. I can't complain."
Janine came back and I introduced them. We all talked a bit and Billie bought a round of drinks. Janine winked at me when Billie wasn't looking. It made me feel like shit. It made me remember why Janine often irritated me. I insisted on paying for the next round. Janine looked at me like I was nuts. A short time later, Janine was chatting with another woman, accepting a drink from her.
"Do you dance?" Billie asked me.
A decent song was playing. "Sure, why not," I said.
Billie was a good dancer. Nothing too fancy, but she moved well and didn't look too silly while she was doing it. She's just a girl, I thought. I don't know why I kept expecting these women to act like men with boobs. She dresses a little differently, but that's about it.
We danced for several songs. A slow one came on. I didn't want to slow dance, but I didn't know how to get out of it. I was here on false pretences. It would have been easier if Billie hadn't been nice, if she had been a guy with boobs. An insensitive, slobbering Cape Cod drunken guy. She wasn't. She was a nice girl, struggling to make a living and here I was, invading her territory, pretending to be something I wasn't, letting her spend her scant pay on me. I slow danced with her.
