Lesbians in Dog Parks

So a few months ago, I was out walking with Mr. Lesbian at our local dog park. Normally, this is something that s/he does solo - I'm more into manicures and Crate and Barrel than dirty dogs in dog parks. However, this was a family outing - me, our fouffy dog and Mr. Lesbian out for a canine jaunt.

As we round the curve in the path, up ahead we see a distinctive lesbian profile - the Braided-tailed Frosted Menopausal Dyke with puppy-sized golden retriever. Unmistakeable plumage (on both of them, I mean). I take a quick look at Mr. Lesbian and mutter under my breath, "Um, do ya think she's a sista?" Mr. Lesbian is oblivious. S/he wouldn't know a lesbian if one poked her in the eye with a smudge stick. Being truly and really a man, she has no gaydar. She has only "best guessing" which is, as we know, nowhere near as reliable as gaydar. Somebody should conduct a clinical trial on that, don't you think?

Anyway, it turns out this woman has a name that sounds like punctuation. (Oh no you don't! I'm not giving out names. The Lesbian Nation is too damn small!) Not only that, but she's cute and she lives and works right near my therapy office. Nobody says the word lesbian, but I for once am not wearing make-up, and the words "Provincetown" are emblazoned in white across the front of my lavender T shirt, worn over my orange cargo pants. I think she knows!

So, this was a fortuitous meeting. Ms. Punctuation and I have had coffee several times since then and get on like a house on fire. Hey, guess what! She's a shaman. Yep, I kid you not. However, all that groovy stuff aside, I like her a lot and have a little crush on her - just a little one because as the title of this blog confirms, I am, indeed, a married lesbian and take those vows seriously (even if I'm not getting enough sex and live with somebody who thinks they have a penis when they don't.)

Ms. Punctuation is funny, entertaining, intelligent and great company and we get along like a house on fire. It occurs to me fairly early on that she would be a great match for my friend, Ms. Acupuncturist, so I ask Ms. Punctuation (goddess, this is getting tedious to keep typing out, so I'll refer to them as Ms. P and Ms. A, okay?) if she's looking for a girlfriend. She is only slightly interested. She explains that the puppy and her business keep her busy, and she doesn't know how she'd fit in a girlfriend. I point out that we all think that and then somehow manage to make room when our genitals start acting up. She agrees and says she would consider it.

Later that week, I'm having a massage by Ms. Massage Therapist, also a lesbian and a friend of mine, and I ask her if by any chance she knows Ms. P. Affirmative. Well, ain't this a small world! I then say, "Don't you think Ms. P and Ms. A would get along great together?" Ms. MT grinds to a halt. "Shit, I already tried to set them up and it didn't work out," she says. She goes on to say that they never met, but had a series of disastrous phone calls. I'm crestfallen, gals. However, I am confirmed in my extremely good taste as Ms. MT agreed with the pairing too. I decide then and there that I intend to pursue this further.

So yesterday, despite a long and very tiring week with a host of new clients in my therapy office, and brain fog due to thinking about moving, I met with Ms. A (are you keeping up with these alphabetical designations?) and told her about the incredible coincidence of me knowing Ms. P and would she consider a second chance. She hummed and hawed and then agreed that yes, she would.

So, it's on folks. I'm off to email Ms. P. Watch this space!