Jun 15 2008
Dykes on bikes
So off we went, my friend L and I, to Palermo park (we both agreed that translating “Bosques de Palermo” into English was an impossible task using equivalent words in the language of Shakespeare) on a Sunday morning that was sunny and only slightly chilly, a mild prelude to winter. Our bikes were perfectly in shape, and so were we. She, a gorgeous Valkyrie in her Teutonic splendor. Me, the cute chick I am, with beauty and class — as my friend Norm (a self-declared lesbian man) once put it. And we rode, and rode, until we decided lunchtime was around the corner. We stopped at the corner of Libertador and Bulnes, and had our lunch there. The sun was already playing hide and seek with the sky, and we were engaged in the most interesting conversation. L was saying that she did give her own lesbian inclinations some thought a few years ago, and wondered if she might not just go for the heterosexual life, given that she can also be with men. Assenting, I simply rephrased her words into something like:
Well, yes, because you like men.
To which she replies:
I like having sex with men
It was then that I burst into laughter, and was literally on the verge of crying out tears of amusement. She looked at me in dismay, and a few seconds later followed this with a good-hearted laugh. In her correction of my words, she had said everything. Sex can indeed be great with men.
She: You know what? You tell a man to leave, and he leaves….
Me: Whereas a woman tells you not to call her, and if you don’t, then she’ll ask why you didn’t…
Probably that is why we lesbians love women…because we’ll never understand them, and we won’t be able to help feeling what we feel towards them.
