But I'm A Fun Girl

It's Learning Time!

Word of the Day: Vituperative
Pronunciation: vih-too-per-ah-tive
Function: adjective
Meaning: uttering or given to censure : containing or characterized by verbal abuse.


Keep this word in mind, homos.
 Now guess what?

New Orleans is crawling with lesbians.

Holy shit is it ever. I was there for the MLK weekend, and it didn't even cross my mind that there would be dykes there. But it makes sense.

If they're not camping, lesbians love cheesy tourist/drinking destinations where they can buy fuzzy pimp hats or have their name airbrushed onto a t-shirt. Think Wisconsin Dells. Six Flags. Anywhere with fried mini-donuts.
New Orleans was a good time. Made better by the fact that there's a dyke bar there called Rubyfruit Jungle. Totally serious. Right off of Bourbon Street!

I had to go. I dragged Kirsten with me. She didn't want to go - she'd been pleading all night to go to a titty bar. BITCH NO! We were going to see if we could hook up for free first. (then we could totally pay for strippers. I'm just not that good at sitting on my hands in the club. They somehow...wander.)

Inside Rubyfruit Jungle, it was a sea of sporty dykes. They were wearing jerseys and cheering the Saints on toward playoff victory. Everytime the Saints gained yardage, much sporty-dyke shoulder-punching and whooping ensued.
Ew.


But wait! There! Leaning against the wall! A cute boi! Wearing a hoodie and drinking something clear! She was elfin (how I like 'em), messy-haired, and had what Avril Lavinge calls "shit on her wrists." Lots of cuff bracelets.
I had my target.


Never let more than two minutes go by after spotting what you want.


She had already seen me. I smiled. She smiled.
Kirsten rolled her eyes and sluttily ate a cherry out of her drink.

"AAack look at that girl over there OMG she's so cute," I hissed to Kirsten.


She looked over the bar.
"Which one? They're all sporty."


Bah. How could you not see the shining beacon of hotness that was the sulking boi-dyke? I gathered my courage and left Kirsten. She did not understand true magnetic attractiveness.

Me: (hovering near bar stool) Hi. (Sitting down next to adorable boi)

Adorable Boi: Hi.

Me: Wow. You are really cute.

Adorable Boi: (flatly) Thanks.

           (Really, really awkward pause)

Me: Just, um, wanted to tell you that.

Adorable Boi: Lemme guess. You're from out of town.

Me: Ha. Uh, yep. Chicago. Where are you from?

Adorable Boi: Here. (slow-motion points to the floor)

Me: Oh. Wow. Is this, like, the only place in town?

Adorable Boi: Uh-huh. And - lemme guess again - you're only in town for a couple of nights.

Me: (shifting uncomfortably) Well...yeah.

Adorable Boi: (laughs meanly) That's what I thought.

Me: You must get this a lot.

Not-So-Adorable Boi: (nastily) You could say that.

Me: Jesus. You live in a huge party town. Of course dykes in the only dyke bar in the French Quarter on a Saturday night are going to be looking for one-night stands. Let me give that a "duh." If you don't like it, you should move.

NSA Boi: You don't know me. Excuse me for trying to find something a little more long-term.

Me: Excuse me for paying you a compliment and trying to talk to your bitter ass.

NSA Boi: I think your friend's cuter, anyway.

                 OUCH.

Me: (in a vindictive fury now) Yeah? Well, she's straight. You're attracted to straight girls. That's why you're having problems, Bitter. You're attracted to straight girls.  Good luck having a long-term relationship with one of those.

I shoved back the bar stool. I collected Kirsten's cuter ass. We left.

SHOT DOWN!!!

I stalked through the cool mist, past flickering gas lamps. Fuming.
I told Kirsten was that the cute boi was really bitter and looking for a long-term relationship. I didn't tell her that the boi thought she was better-looking. Kirsten was mildly surprised we were leaving so soon, but willing to go, as we had plans to watch Interview with the Vampire in our Westin bathrobes.

We got a ride back to the hotel from a sweet white mule named Mercedes, and the driver was very nice to us. He gave us carrots to feed Mercedes, and I patted her nose and mourned the loss of my innocence. Y'all: That was the meanest rejection of my life. Granted, I said some pretty vicious words (should we say I was...vituperative?) as well, but that boi started it.


When you're a femme lesbian, and you don't have a second head growing out of your right shoulder, it's fairly easy to get dates.
Like shooting fish in a barrel.
Like bow-hunting a deer when you're riding the deer.
It's easy.

There just aren't that many gay girls who dress girly.
There just aren't.
We are a scarcity, and getting rejected out-of-hand like that had never happened to me before.

I called my favorite lil' piece, CJ, to howl.

CJ: Let me get this straight, boo. You're calling me at 3:37 in the morning to complain that some girl in a bar rejected you? On the New Orleans trip I wanted to come on but couldn't 'cause of school?
Me: Exactly. Now tell me how sexy I am.

That mean boi really hurt my feelings.
It was probably good for me.
You know, take me down a notch.

But never fear, skanks, I have recovered. It's Learning Time, and the lesson we can take from this is: we must deal with rejection and move on.

We must never, never stop hitting on women.

BOIs

Let’s talk about bois. Boi is pronounced “boy” and “bois” is just like “boys.” A boi is a newish category of lesbian, named bois because they're extremely boy-ish looking girls. Usually sharp-featured and really, appallingly cute, a lesbian who identifies as a boi will have a certain bashful quality about her. As in, “I can’t help it, the ladies just love me.” And boy, do they ever. Everyone loves a cute boi. I mean everyone – men, women, kids, everyone. There is one exception to this: Middle-aged straight women often take great offense upon sighting a boi. They will then be hostile. This is a mystery.

Bois are extremely stylish, and dress nattily. They are usually skinny and naturally flat-chested (or wrapping their boobs up tightly with Ace bandages.) They come in many styles: bois who dress like skateboarders; preppy bois who wear ties and jeans with good sneakers; bois who wear a lot of smudged black eyeliner. Bois are currently the rock stars of the lesbian community – they’re trendy, and lots of people want one.

Bois are cocky and in your face. They think (or know) they are hot shit. They know they are sought-after and that girls love them, so they can sometimes be rude when someone undesirable hits on them. They think the following words/phrases are hilarious, and use them often: ‘my cock’, ‘pussy’, ‘dick’, ‘blowjob’, ‘eat it’, ‘suck it’, ‘She was hitting on me’, ‘fuck’, ‘fucking cocksucker’, ‘your mom’, ‘package’, and ‘I wasn’t doing anything’.

A boi would not be caught dead without the coolest shoes. These will be from Puma, Nike, Adidas, or Tiger Asics. Bois wear great jeans – usually men’s and expensive. They wear tight button-down shirts, skinny ties, and men’s undershirts and tank tops. Underneath, you’ll find boxer briefs or boy’s tighty-whities, sometimes with funny stuff on them, like Superman cartoons. Bois do not wear: Birkenstocks, clogs, Earth shoes, girl shoes of any kind, Tevas, UGGs, anything from The North Face, REI, Patagonia, Columbia, or anything made of fleece.

Bois know how to dance. If, for some reason, they don’t dance well, they are way too cool to go out on the floor and let someone discover it – they will sit back at their table, drinking beer from the bottle. Let the women come to them. Bois do a lot of leaning up against walls in clubs, looking cool. A boi does not smoke regularly, but will cheerfully bum one from you. No self-respecting boi orders wine when going out. They will however, have a great fondness for vodka, good tequila, and anything clear. Think martini, not Cosmo. Gin if it's a bad day.

Bois are usually good in bed. They think (and tell everyone who’ll listen for half a second) that they’re better than they are. It would not be out of the question for a boi to look deeply into your eyes and say, “I’m gonna rock your world,” without cracking a smile. This would not be considered cheesy.

Bois are intensely loyal friends. If you’ve made a boi friend, you have her for life. Exception: (you sleep with her girlfriend.) They are devoted to their family members, so forget about getting out of Family Christmas if you’re dating one. Bois communicate almost entirely by text. They are always in the loop. They love parties and get-togethers, cookouts and trips. They are the perfect shopping partners and insist on going into the dressing room with you. A boi will NOT sell out her friend or tattle about something she’s seen. She would go to prison for you. She is intensely private and has a problem with other people knowing her business.

Easy Ways to Spot a Boi:

- Who’s the cutest lil’ dyke in the room? There’s your boi.
- You say hi. She tilts her chin up at you in the classic “Whaddup” backwards-head-nod.
- There are three giggling straight girls gathered around her.
- She drinks insane amounts of either Red Bull or coffee.
- She has tattoos and/or piercings in visible places and is happy to tell you the fascinating story of each one.
- The names and number of her sex partners keep changing.
- She is constantly hidden in a corner having private Cell Phone Drama with someone she’s sleeping with.
- She has actually made a “V” with her first two fingers, put it over her mouth, and waggled her tongue in plain sight.
- Her sneakers look new and expensive.
- She thinks she makes a convincing drag king. This is rarely the case.
- She knows the words to every Missy Elliot song, as well as all trashy hip-hop songs.
- She uses more hair products to look “undone” than any straight girl.
- More than 3 roommates at any given time.
- She actually has a girlfriend, but this could be difficult to prove, as the girlfriend is rarely seen, like an endangered gazelle.
- Vast. Collection. Of Belts. Every boi worth her salt has at least ten belts, probably more.
- She constantly wears t-shirts that are funny/remind everyone she’s gay.
- She surrounds herself with other bois. When drunk, she will dirty dance with them in a phenomenon known as “bromance.”
- If you have seen her pantomime humping someone, she is probably a boi.