It 30 minutes after midnight and I’m on my bed, typing with Lima using my leg as a pillow. The lesbo party that I was expecting wasn’t what I imagined.
I left home at 8:30 pm, I waited for 10 minutes the bus at -14. Quite chilly outside, I need to buy a Canada Goose jacket. So I asked the bus driver what time last bus was available and he asnwered me very kindlye “At 12.35 pm”. So, I had money to take a taxi just in case but my plans changed completely when I arrived to the National Art Centre.
I arrived early, I had to wait like 20 minutes before seeing somebody I knew: the Manager I met in the other party. In the meantime there was a big screen outside the room and I could watch the Olympics inaguration ceremony. It was quite embarassing being alone walking around without avaible to talk to anynobody. There weren’t a lot of people at the beginning, but the groups were already formed. What surprised me the most was all the first comers were over 50’s and they were dressed office style. Butches and dykes.
The Manager, Peggy, asked me to join her group. We took a big round table. The decoration was kind pre Valentine’s day cheap. A white tableclothe, 5 Hershey’s and some tiny little red hearts. She introduced me her friends, her ex (from a 8 years-long relationship) and another 3 women around their 50’s, fashioned, well dressed, over made-up. They called themselves the Francophone table. Nobody of them asked anything or looked at me, or tried to talk to me. So, I prefer to stay away and just talk to Peggy. I was feeling invisible. Peggy realized they older people were coming and coming and she said “this is not good for you”. Well, at that point I was feeling not only unconfortable because the francos were talking to each and because more and more people were coming.
The social stratification were visible at this point. People from the unlucky pot were there, dressed ordinary, the table besides us were the old butch couples, two fat women wearing ties dancing romanticaly. The other table behind us were the middle aged beatnik dykes. At the end of the room were other tables with more lesbians. I should add younger people were a real minority. By the way, I saw 3 black women and one from India.
Later at almost midnight, hot girls arrived. Very feminate and stylish. The kind of women you have to spend at least 60$ in drinks to be observed or listened. I was looking at one, younger and beautiful woman dressed in black. Of course she never noticided I existed. That’s the kind of woman you call her “Impossible”, impossible to be by your side, to talk to or to be near her.
One of the most interesting phenomenes are transexual people. Man-To-Women (MTW). There were 2 transexuals in love, dancing, caressing and kissing each other. One was very tall, at least 1.95 mt. She reminded me Marylin Manson without make up. She was beautiful, she looked at me and smiled me.In fact, I saw 3 others, one from the unlucky pot with her herfriend, dressed very 80’s a MTW and another MTW friend of her.
I saw Sarah from the Public Service Pride, I approched her because she was surrounded by beautiful girls but when I arrived they were gone. Later I was able to say hi to her. Sarah is a fat woman always carring a drink in her hand, always, no matter the circunstances she plays with her Blackberry and hangs her drink. She always walks around the room or the restaurant checking people, playing with her hair and taking care of her glass. When she talks to you never looks at your eyes, always at the door looking to know who’s coming.
Peggy came and dragged me to the dance floor, she was talking about her date, it seems is working well. I’m happy for her, she’s hot and she deserves happiness but she was a bit afraid because the girl she’s dating is 40 years old and she is 49.
After dancing I just sat and listened to a little contest with some prices that of course, I didn’t win. I went to the dance floor to look for Peggy and tell her that I was leaving…she was talking and dancing with somebody. I just grabbed my jacket and left.
As usual, find the exit was complicated. I was lost and another lesbian from the unlucky pot showed me the way. She said “are you leaving early?” I said “I got nothing to do here”. She replied “People find what they want in Ottawa”. I didn’t understand her answer, but probably I’m more lost that I was thinking.
I found the exit and I waited for my bus which arrived 15 minutes later with the same bus driver that I met when I arrived to Ottawa. At home Lima was waiting for me. I wrote a short message to a friend and went to sleep.
So, do you think you can dance? Not me.
Sitting on the bus Depeche Mode’s song was in my head:
I was born with the wrong sign
In the wrong house
With the wrong ascendancy
I took the wrong road
That led to the wrong tendencies
I was in the wrong place at the wrong time
For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme
On the wrong day of the wrong week
I used the wrong method with the wrong technique