Ms. All About That Bass

Yup, you guessed it, I hooked up with a girl. A really cool bass-playing, long hair having, bra-wearing female. It was a Saturday like any other and Miranda and I were out in Kensington causing trouble when we stepped outside for a smoke. Well, to be clear I was not smoking, but instead lecturing those around me about the danger of cancer sticks.  Anyway, I stood alongside Miranda and another fellow ranting away when a girl approached us asking for a light. She was playing bass in the “battle of the bands”-ish event happening across the street and asked if we wanted to come watch. Being the loveable, free-spirit that she is, Miranda was immediately down and we headed inside.

The details aren’t important, but I could tell very quickly that this girl was interested in getting to know me in a very non-friendship sort of way. The night soon progressed to us very publicly making out in the middle of the bar, which according to Miranda looked just like a mass of dark, curly hair flailing about. This was soon followed by a slightly inebriated conversation with myself in the bathroom that went something along the lines of…

  • Me: But you’re not into girls in a sexual way…
  • Also me: So what, you’re into sex!
  • Me: Good point.

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I’ve never been with a girl before. I mean, I made out with one once in Barcelona and had a couple kisses with some friends in high school, but that’s about it. Nonetheless, nothing felt weird or forced so I just went with it. Funnily enough, Ms. All About that Bass said that I gave off lesbian vibes (whatever that means) and I actually do have a reputation for getting drinks from women at bars, so I didn’t blame my friends for not being surprised when I told them about our hookup. In fact, Miranda was the most surprised, at the fact that I hadn’t ventured into same-sex hookup territory before.

We ended up having a great time together, and a great hookup. We clearly had chemistry and got along really well, as I said nothing felt forced at all. I left her place around 4am, throwing out some excuse about walking the dog that I’d been taking care of that week and that was it.

Anyway, I woke up the next morning feeling really giddy and a little guilty. We’d had fun together and I didn’t regret that at all, but I was feeling weird about how MUCH fun we’d had. Our convos from the night before pointed to an actual connection (romantic, friendship, or something different all together) so I didn’t really want to blow this girl off like I might another one night stand. At the same time, she is out, proud and had been for years, and I was still trying to figure out what this hookup meant to me, if anything at all.

I am a millennial at my core so I obviously don’t think that sexuality is cut and dry. Hooking up with guys throughout my life makes me no straighter than hooking up with this girl makes me gay and there’s no need to label it as one way or another. However, I definitely wasn’t looking to pursue anything and this led to me acting pretty awkward when she texted later the next day. I’m not proud of this but my responses were very short and distant, I was acting like a total “fuckboi” and this really bothered me. I’ve been on the receiving end of enough similar situations to know that if I was her, I would not like how I was behaving. The ambiguity of the situation was a tough one for me to navigate and she stopped texting me after picking up on that vibe. All week it was bugging me that I’d acted in a way that I so often condemn. I wasn’t overtly mean, but we both knew what I was doing and that just wasn’t cool.

Cut to the next Saturday when I received a text from her asking if I wanted her to drop off the stuff that I’d left at her place. I was so thrown because honestly, who’s that nice??? Definitely none of the guys I’ve dated! Feeling even worse about how I’d acted I said she could just toss my stuff out if she wanted and again she stopped texting…rightfully so. She’d handed me the second opportunity to explain myself but I punked out.

After letting her message fester for the next 12 hours, I texted her and explained why I had essentially gone like the wind. While I may have padded my response a little, I basically stated that she was awesome and I just wasn’t sure what I want right now. This is actually true, but more in the context of whether or not I want a relationship, not whether or not that relationship is with a man or a woman. To her credit she was extremely cool about the whole thing and grateful for the explanation. We left things amicable enough that I probably could message to hang out in the future if the mood struck again.

The biggest surprise of this whole thing turned out to be how easily we understood each other. She knew what I was implicitly saying through my friendly but dismissive messages and I knew she was looking for an explanation. Men always say women are impossible to understand but we really got each other because I was able to actually put myself in her shoes (or combat boots lol).

At the end of the day I still want to end up with a man and missed the sex part of our hookup, despite how bomb it may have been. Nonetheless, I leave this with a reinforced disdain for ghosting and a much greater appreciation for my own sexuality and the complications that come with it.

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