There’s this thing my lady friend calls the “big lesbian cesspool.”
Let’s look at some facts. In the last three elections, the Voter News Service exit poll registered the gay vote between four and five percent. Apparently the Census 2000 under-counted (awesome! go equality!) the total number of gay or lesbian households and thus the total gay and lesbian population can be estimated at five percent of the total U.S. population over 18 years of age.
Now, let’s do some (very bad) math. I live in New York City. It’s estimated that there are 8.3 million other people living in and around me. Multiply that by five percent and you have 415,000 other folks that either are in a strictly homosexual relationship or would like to be. Now, the tricky part: what percentage of that number are women identifying as lesbians or bisexuals? Wouldn’t it be nice if you could just halve the number since the population is generally 50 percent male and 50 percent female? But I don’t think that’s scientifically correct.
When Kinsey did his famous sexy time studies, he found that somewhere between one and two percent of women were exclusively homosexual. We’ll take that with a grain of salt since it’s a bit outdated. Ultimately the number of LGB people in the U.S. (then and now) really is quite subjective and fluid. I’m not sure a number will ever be pinned down.
So for everyone who skipped my bad math and quick googling skills: in the grand scheme of things, there aren’t a ton of gay people around. Thus, it’s safe to assume there is some inter-dating between exes and friends. And that. Shit. Gets. Complicated. Have you ever seen the L word? Let’s do a quick rundown: Bette and Tina dated. Bette dated Alice. Alice dated Dana. Dana sort of hooked up with Jenny once. Jenny dated Shane. Shane made out with Helena. Helena dated Tina. It’s a big, lesbian cesspool of dating your best friend’s ex or your ex’s best friend.
Truthfully, I didn’t believe this when my lady friend told me about the cesspool she was minorly connected to in Brooklyn. Call me naive but originally I chalked this theory to being nothing more than that: a theory, a myth, like unicorns and the iPhone. But then Alexis rolled into town for my birthday and drowned me in that cesspool with one drunken text.
We were at a lovely dinner party. Alexis made guacamole that, despite it’s poopie color due to my inability to pick out ripe avocados, was absolutely delicious. My Italian side reared its head with some bruschetta and red wine. We had too much gin, too much wine, too much pulled chicken and a super heated game of catchprase. My friend invited coworkers and my lady friend’s ex girlfriend was in town for the weekend as well, so she joined the fun. Generally, my rule of thumb is to hate any ex of anyone I’m sleeping with. But this girl is downright awesome; acts just like a boy with me, generous with cigarettes and introduced me to the most drunkenly violent game of rock, paper, scissors ever.
The night was winding down. Lady friend and I were lying on the floor of her bedroom trying to digest our respective food babies and my phone starts to vibrate. I was a little shocked to see a text from Alexis waiting for me. She was maybe ten feet away from me in the other room. What did she want? Why couldn’t she come into the room and tell me herself?
Alexis: Uh oh. I have something to tell you.
Me: Okay?
Alexis: It’s bad.
Me: Um, okay. Tell me.
Alexis: No, I’ll tell you when we get home.
Now at this point, Alexis rolls into the room with another friend. I’m a little perplexed as to a) why she didn’t tell me in person; b) what’s so important and c) how she manages to text me while we’re in the same room without anyone noticing.
Me: Tell me now.
Alexis: I think one of your friends is really cool.
Let’s translate: “I think one of your friends is really cool” in Alexis speak means “I want to bone one of your friends.” But something was a little fishy. When Alexis is bombed, she makes no effort to hide who she wants to bone. She’d probably tattoo it right across her forehead if she could and I don’t blame her since she usually gets what she wants. Her secretive texts immediately made me think she had the hots for my lady friend or the ex.
Me: Oh. Christ. Lady friend or ex?
Alexis: What? Dude? Come on. I think the ex is really awesome.
BAM. I just outed Alexis. Alexis had the hots for a girl. Maybe it was the wine? Maybe it was seeing me all up on another girl? The world may never know.
I must give credit where’s its due. Alexis managed to single-handedly introduce me to the big lesbian cesspool with her mini crush on my girl’s ex girl all while keeping her pants on. And it’s a shame, because the ex totally would have hit that if Alexis had made the first move.
-Anastasia Beam
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