We have our friend Christian staying with us for a few days this week. It’s her birthday tomorrow and S suggested she spend some time with us instead of being alone for her big day.

Christian came by yesterday and will be going home tomorrow. Last night, we enjoyed some home made chicken soup and a handful of episodes of 30 Rock. (Side note: Tina Fey is awesome. “I want to go to there” is the newest phrase to be tossed around our house.)

Tonight, we took Christian out for her birthday dinner. We went to a regular neighbourhood haunt and were not surprised to find the restaurant full. The din of the dining room made conversation hard, but that didn’t stop us from taking in the people around us and offering up our commentary.

To my left, was a strange (heterosexual) pair that Christian and I tried to figure out. The girl was young and very cute, the guy was a bit older than her. We couldn’t tell if they were on a date, if he was her pimp or if she was there alone and he was trying to chat her up. At one point, I overheard him ask her, “Do you smoke? I smoke, but only a little bit!” And then, “Do you drive?”

To S’s right, there was a table with two heterosexual couples. One of the males was on the bigger size and everything about him, including his voice, was loud. I could make out some of the conversation from that particular table, but not much. The men were going on about cottages and penis size or other such testosterone-driven topics. During our appetizers, S leaned over to me and said, “Can you imagine having to put up with a man? Having to listen to that kind of talk all of the time?”

“And having to see them naked,” I added. We both shuddered at the thought and said a silent prayer thankful for our gayness.

While we were finishing our entrées, S once again leaned in to me and asked, “is the man sitting next to me as big as the one across the table?”

I glanced over her shoulder and noted that he was not. I let S know my findings and she replied with, “even his fingers are fat!”

I could tell that S’s patience with the loud obnoxious men was wearing thin so we quickly signaled for the bill once we were finished dessert.

Once out on the street, S breathed a sign of relief to be away from the people we’d been sitting next to. “Jesus Christ, those guys were annoying!” We laughed as we walked home and mocked the other patrons.

Thinking about it, I really am glad not to have to put up with a man and all of that macho bullshit. Growing up with my dad and an older brother was enough. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some angry, man-hating-dyke. I like men; I like it when they deliver my furniture, when they set my mouse traps and when they install my major appliances. I do like men, I just happen to love women.

Related posts:

  1. Our First Real Dinner Party
  2. Candlelit Dinner
  3. The wallet of reason, Whitey’s lessons and an early dinner
  4. Wine, Philosophy, Gender Identity and More Wine Part 2
  5. “It’s a wonder you’re still around”
  6. What’s Your Dog’s Name?
  7. Super Lesbionic
  8. Birthday Cards, Bad Steaks and Boobs
  9. P-p-p-poker Face
  10. George of the Jungle