10-Nov-2006
SHEILA DRIVES HER DATE, Renni, back to Renni’s apartment after a simply marvelous evening, and once she pulls up to the curb, the two begin to kiss. Seven minutes later, with blouses agape and hair askew, the two manage to pull back and stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Renni, who once habitually chewed her hair in grammar school, now brushes a few strands out of her mouth that had fallen in when she lowered her eyes to give Sheila “the look.” The look was plagiarized from Prince during his Purple Rain days, and—in Renni’s version--involves sucking in the cheeks while emanating a funky and wild sensuality that increases when she concentrates on the word funktastic.
“Wish you could come up,” Renni says meaningfully, and Sheila replies, “Is that your way of asking me to come up?”
“Well…if that means you’re interested in coming up…”
“That depends on whether you really are inviting me …”
“So if I was inviting you, you’d say…?”
“Yes,” Sheila says. “I’d say ‘yes,’ I am really interested in coming up.”
(Sheila is about to discover Renni has UBI!)
“There’s one small problem,” says Renni. “My ex is still living with me, and we have an agreement about bringing people into what was once our home…so,”—she brightens—“we could go to your place…”
Sheila’s house is a mess. She hasn’t emptied the litter box in weeks. “How about we just sneak in quietly? It’s late enough.”
“Well, actually, we only have a one-bedroom apartment, so I don’t have my own room. I’m sleeping on the couch (a white lie—she’s still sleeping in the same bed with her) for now.”
When the ex still figures prominently in your new girl’s life, she’s got UBI, and you’ve got a solid case of class III dyke drama on your hands. RUN!
