Monday, May 3, 2010

A Chilling Tale and Chasing Tail

Hi there, gay scouts!
Who wants to hear a ghost story?

Ok, pipe down, then. 
Ok, everybody got enough marshmallows?  Oops, Teddy, yours is burning.  Oh, too late.  
Ok.  Alright.  Find your buddy, everybody got their buddy? 

'Cause, scouts, you're going to need your buddy.  You get scared, you just grab hold of your buddy and squeeze the fuck out of his or her hand.  Here we go!

This story is called "Vanished." 

And it's a true story.
I know the person it happened to.  You can't make this stuff up.
And we all know the scariest stories are the true ones, right?
Ok, ok, shhh, I'm starting!


It happened in Arkansas.

A young girl (we'll call her Megan) flew into Arkansas around 6 p.m., just this last Sunday night.

She rented a minivan at the airport and drove up through some twisty country roads.  She was trying to get to downtown  Fayetteville.

The countryside was quiet.
Dead, almost.

The sun was setting.  It was lush and green in Arkansas. 

There was no wind.

Megan saw beautiful Arabian horses on her drive.
She saw fat white cows.
She saw three megachurches, all with overflowing parking lots. 

But she saw no one.  

There were no people, anywhere. 
She drove by a a general store. 
No one.  

She passed a trailer park with a playground, and saw a swing moving up and down wildly, as if, a moment ago, a child had just jumped off  its seat into the sky.

But there wasn't a child in sight.


Megan found her way into downtown Fayetteville. 

Everything looked normal.  Stores were open.  Stoplights clicked on and off.  A flag hung limply on its pole. 

But there was no one.
Amused, Megan drove down the middle of the main thoroughfare.  Where is everybody? she thought.

Her minivan was the only car in the whole parking garage. 
Every step echoed.

Megan was staying at a fancy hotel.  But she seemed to be the only guest. 
When she checked in, the man behind the desk said "We've been waiting for you, Megan" in an eerie voice. 

She fled to her room.

Megan called for room service.  The phone rang and rang and rang.  She hung up.
And went down to the restaurant.  The lights were on, there were places set on the tables, and she could smell fresh steak sizzling. 

Hello?  Megan called.
The empty bar gleamed.

With the hair prickling on the back of her neck, Megan walked through the swinging doors of the kitchen.
There was no one there.

She came back out of the kitchen doors.
And that's when she saw it: a lone glass of ice water was sitting on the bar, melting.  
It hadn't been there even 30 seconds ago.

That did it.

Megan bolted down her hallway, shaking with fear.
She spent the rest of the night with the door double-bolted and the blackout shades drawn, terrified to look out the window; terrified to look in the mirror!  She was sure that someone (or something) would be looking back at her!

Some say she just...vanished.


Ha ha ha, gay scouts.  Were you scared?  Did I getcha?

Wanna know the best part?  Remember how I said I knew the person in this story?
Well, Megan is me.
S'truth, sluts!
I should be earning merit badges for this shit.

Now, don't be too scared.  This story has a happy ending.

With the morning sun came a shift change at the front desk.  
My seminar filled up with teachers.  The hallways of the hotel were suddenly overrun with women in capri pants asking me if I knew where to find the closest restroom. 
Order was restored.

A couple of minutes ago, a banquet-server-guy rushed past me with a huge bucket of ice and about 50 Diet Cokes. 

It's 9 a.m., so that could only mean one thing:  the banquet-guy is working for a room full of businesswomen.

Only possible explanation. 
I wandered down the hall and peeked in the room. 
Hypothesis confirmed.
Some kind of "Female Leaders in Real Estate" bullshit.  Lots of frosted blond highlights and polyester-blend skirt-suits from Kohl's. 

Anyway!  As the banquet-guy came back out of the room, a cute, petite lil' woman in her early 30s brushed past him in the hall and murmured, "Excuse me."

I thought the server-guy was going to get whiplash.

He turned his head sofast.  Actually craned his neck, trying to watch her rear end as she opened the door to her meeting room.

Obviously a total reflex.  I mean, she was cute, but she wasn't that cute.  Jeez. 

I grinned at the banquet-guy and gave him an "I-totally-saw-that" look.

His ears turned bright red as he smiled sheepishly back.

And suddenly, it dawned on me:


Holy sweet baby jesus. 
What must it be like to be in the majority?
To find straight women attractive and be able to (on average, fairly accurately) predict that she'd be into men?

To be able to simply assume that a woman is straight, like about 80% of the population is?

What must that be like????

It must be like a movable feast.

It must be like finding yourself in a Mexican bakery when you're starving - STARVING - for white-sugar frosting.
To see most females as potential sex partners????

I don't think I'd be able to handle it.

I think I would have a fucking heart attack.  I would look at all women in a new light. 

I would NOT think:  "Hmm, she's cute, I wonder if she's gay, probably not, maybe though, and maybe she'd like to get a coffee sometime, ahhh I'm too chicken." 

I would think: "There is an 80% chance that she obviously wants to fuck." 

I would have math on my side.

Homos, when I watched that banquet-server-guy practically turn his head 180 degrees, like in The Exorcist, just to watch some lukewarm piece in a poly-blend suit walk away, I felt something. 

I felt something stirring in my icy black heart.

I can't be sure what it was.  It might have been heartburn from the hotel coffee.

But tricks, it felt more like...compassion. 

Women are so hot.  It wasn't his fault. 
Women are just so hot.  He never even had a chance.
I really felt for the straight boy.

A sudden onrush of emotion.  Tears welled in my eyes.

Thank God, thank God, thank God I'm gay.

I could never handle being in the majority.

My head would explode.


  1. Ah honey, I get whiplash.
    Every single oh-she-looks-so-cute-in-her-american-apparel-tights-and-oversize-tshirt girl is a potential to me.


    Every single fucking girl between 14 and 30 in MY (mine. all mine.) part of the city (Calgary, Alberta, Canada) is at the very least bicurious, and an alarming number of the female population is so queer it hurts.

    For some reason Dykes just love a city where plaid, bottled beer, cowboy boots, blue jeans and a rusty truck are commonplace. There are more butches here then anywhere else in the province, no shitting you.

    And frankly, I'm sick of bois, I see so many of them every day (being part of the pack and all) that their backwards head-nods and cocky ironically gay t-shirts almost offend me.

    What is WRONG with me Krista?
    Is it that being gay isn't challenging to me anymore?
    I get a sicker thrill to have a straight boy eyeing me up then a handsome butch in a suit and tie.

    I used to blossom under the dominant, "I'm undressing you here on the train in my head" stares of other women. I used to adore being the cute lil' dyke that all the older ladies fawned over because I was just. So. Damned. Cute.

    Growing up sucks.

  2. Why don't I live in Calgary?

  3. I'm bisexual. My head is like fucking 4 of july since I wake up until...
    ... wait, my head explodes on my dreams as well.

    I'm on an endless bonfire. Ask my therapist.

  4. Woman in business suits. God help me. Some days it's just too much for a southern woman. Gives me a case of the vapors.

  5. Manda, let's go. I'll pick you up in ten?

  6. Ha ha, great blog entry!

    I went to a lgbtq-student gathering and there were SO many hot women, I didn't know who to talk to, who to flirt with, which girl to just check out, my eyes were all over the place and I couldn't just sit and talk to one girl.

    So I totally agree with you. It would be like a potential-sex-overload.

  7. kristaaaa! I sooo wish i could live in the majority! I mean I'm a 16 year old in a small town with the population of about 10,00 in the middle of Nebraska. My options are limited to about two kinds people in this dry homohobic town. The girls who say they're "bi" because its so hot to get drunk & kiss girls at kick backs and hold each others hands in the hallways. Orrr the weird IM SO GAY EVERYONE LOOK HOW LESBIONiC I AM girls :( *sniff*

  8. i got a call from a trucker in lafeyette while reading your blog at work! strange! gave me some chills.

  9. Haha - that's how it was for me when I first came out to myself. It was really beyond overwhelming. Haha And don't get me started on the bone-breaking crushes on my straight mama friends. Oh god. But yeah. When you're not really thinking "is she gay?" you really can get that head-about-to-explode feeling.

    My favorite memory though is, I was standing in line at the bakery counter at the grocery store, and as this woman leaned up and over to take a sample of something, I found myself having to shift and shift again to check out her ass (total reflex, I was sooo new I didn't even realize what I was doing, sweartogod). I couldn't figure out why this GUY kept being in my way, and it took like a full minute of shifting around before I realized this creature was trying to check out my rack while I was trying to check out his wife's ass.

    Circle of life, I tell ya.

  10. Hahah, yeah, well it's getting all warm and nice and spring back here in Finland and you can imagine after a loooong winter, when everyone has been covered with layers and layers of cloth and unflattering pieces of coats, spring time just makes my head explode every single minute! Honestly, it took me an hour to get out of my local grocery store and I was just buying some milk! There was a hottie in every corner! Damn.. Thank god it's summer soon and I can numb myself a little bit. Or just put my sunglasses on and do the "i'm not looking at your boobs, i'm just chilling baby"..

  11. I love spooooky stories! That one gave me the heebie jeebies! In my head I was screaming "Megan turn your soccermommobile around this instant and GTF outta there!" And women in business suits/outfit-thingies give me the heebies too.. I don't know what my problem is... Maybe cause I was raised a Jehovah's Witness and that's the designated outfit? I dunno. But what I really mean to say is I really enjoyed your post! Yay! Keep more coming. It's one of the few things I live for. Seriously. :)

  12. great post! on a totally unrelated note though. . .can you write a post about eponine, the character from les mis, whom i just recently realized was my first lesbian crush. please tell me if i am alone on this one or not.

  13. I <3 this blog. I totally sometimes get jealous how easy my straight boy friends have it. Because for them, even if the girl IS gay- thats still a hot fantasy for them. I just can't get a straight sex w/ the hot girl I'm crushing on fantasy to work out well for me...
    Also- that church in the pic is outside of Little Rock. Its scary as SHIT! The women there don't even wear wedding bands- because jewelry is a sin. I've been. Its beautiful architecture, but scary.

  14. you are 20 years younger than I and you are my hero.

  15. Arkansas? I'm so sorry. I'm actually from right outside of Little Rock and well let's just say I don't really care much for the state and can't wait to get out. Don't get me wrong it's beautiful scenic wise, but like you basically stated it is dead when it comes to trying to find things to do.

  16. Best post ever.

  17. How dare you be in Fayetteville and I don't know about it? That sucks. This post has been my life since I moved here.

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