Being Goofy Will Get You Laid

Saturday night, after too many beers at a private party at the Flying Saucer, my love and I ended up having our only sober friend drive us to the local lesbian bar.

The Lipstick Lounge is apparently where everyone went last Saturday night, because when we walked in, the traffic stopped. The place was packed with women! There was no where to go... except the entrance hall to the restrooms. Every time someone had to "go," we would have to squish ourselves against the walls to let them barely slide through.

It's funny how people behave when they have to touch your body to get where they want to go. Some draw up. Some barrel on through. Some joke and enjoy the touch.

And that my friends, is how the Boobie Tube in the hallway began. The ones that enjoyed the encounter encouraged us. We stopped squishing back. Then someone we knew came through and Blaire and I shimmied them through with our boobies jiggling against them.

As the night wore on, our inhibitions loosened and soon we were shimmying everyone through except the folks that were obvious sticks in the mud. I should mention that we were both stone cold sober by this point, but we didn't let that stop us.

When the guy walked through, we assumed he was gay and pummeled him with our pleasure bags. Both ways.

He came back through about an hour later. Then again, saying his wife was afraid to use the restroom after hearing his tales. Uh oh. Perhaps he's been enjoying this a tad more than we thought! We promised not to attack her and left it at that.

Shortly after, a middle-aged woman in a white poofy sweater walks up looking incredibly timid. We gave her a free pass since she was so frightened.

You see, The Lipstick Lounge advertises itself as a bar for humans. Although it's an obviously lesbian bar, anybody is welcome. So, I wasn't surprised to see a couple of straight folks.

After enduring a couple of hours of karaoke, the dance floor opened up and we moved out of the Boobie Tube that we had created. We danced and danced and danced. As I was stepping down from the stage, Mr. Straight Guy was right there with his hand out to help me down. How sweet of him (or how naive of me)!

As he held my hand he said, "My wife is very interested!"

Me: Dumb look, then enlightenment set in. "Oh, sorry, my girlfriend doesn't let me play."

At that point, my girlfriend promptly yanked me forward, "No, I do not." She wasn't amused, but at least I know how to pick up the straight couples looking for a ménage a trois!