I got swept away in a brilliant spring semester which included a class called “Lesbian writers and lesbian writings.” It was serendipitous, I found the class while I was late-night perusing AutoStraddle, because the professor was featured in one of their Straddler On the Street articles. The class was full so I emailed her to get the syllabus because I was so excited about it that I was willing to have the class by myself in my spare time, and somehow she got me in!
Cut to 5 months later and I run into this professor around the campus lakes because both she and my girlfriend were trying to help turtles cross the street (ghey) and we decided to be friends now that we’re no longer teacher/student.
One night we went on a fancy (read: suspenders and ties and make up) double date with her and her “not girlfriend.” We are both interracial lesbian couples, and we were in a part of town that demographically does not support either of those things. I guess it was like “double the pleasure, double the fun” for the people around there because the hostess at this restaurant had a hard time talking to us about where we wanted to sit, and after dinner we caused quite a stir in the fro-yo store next door with this family of kids who pointed and laughed at my gf when she waved at them for giggling and staring at us wide-eyed and slack-jawed as we walked out of the building. For once though, they were more like the animals in a zoo cage instead of us, because they were on the inside.
Two nights ago I had a repeat experience, but with a different interracial lesbian couple and at a different fro-yo store. There was this group of college girls sitting by the entrance and I felt one of them staring at us the second we approached the door. I could just feel her heightened sense of discomfort and she nearly dropped her damn spoon. She turned herself around twice, like full upper-body turn, to look at us as we were getting our yogurt. There were no skinny ties or suspenders involved like the first time this happened, but we still sparked a reaction.
I texted my professor/friend to ask her, “what is it with fro-yo and homophobes?” and she came up with, “I guess yogurt is Middle America intolerance food?”
That is unfortunate, because it is also my comfort food.