A Date With The Incomparable Ms. Z. Drew

Submitted by a rare fan...

Part One

I had met this strange creature over a year before, at a time in my life that all lesbians who paddle in the shark pool of long-term relationships experience at some stage.  After six years of circular arguments, self-doubt and a euthanised libido, I was gasping for some responsive female company.  

I had recently rediscovered the joys of drinking after a two year hiatus and was valiantly forgoing sleep, lectures and liver longevity in my determination to make up for lost time.  A new acquaintance's Pink Sofa dinner party invitation, complete with her network of fascinating female friends, was high on my list of 'places at which to get rat-assed'.

Six months of accidental meals and deliberate intoxication had somehow been a magical combination for my skin, shape and deportment, provided you caught me at the right time of day/week/month.  Exuding a confidence usually reserved for jet pilots, I bounded into my new friend's kitchen and proceeded to whip up three courses of Japanese delicacies at once, all the while holding my hostess in thrall with tales of my latest effortless successes at University and points-scoring sparring matches with professors.

I was in full flight of my own excellence when I noticed that my audience had doubled.  Perhaps it was the beer, but all I remember of that first glimpse was a still, quiet mouth and quite the most intensely observant eyes I'd seen not imbedded in an owl.  I knew they'd been watching me as I'd peacocked around the kitchen and the least drunk part of me cringed a little beneath her gaze.  The moment passed almost instantly before she looked away and, without those high beams pinning me to the wall, I was able to recover myself slightly.

The falter in my one-woman-show had allowed my hostess to notice the newcomer also and she snapped to introductory action.  'Beej, this is Zy.  Zy, BJ.'  Again, that silent appraisal, those searchlight eyes piercing my bravado and slight of hand.  Again, the swift snap away, too brief to unravel.  Who was this creature with her bold, questioning eyes and endearingly shy demeanor?  I disliked the taste of my discomfort in the back of my throat and washed it away with a large swig of beer.  I decided the best course of action would be to drink heavily, immerse myself in cooking and ignore this enigmatic distraction.

To Be Continued..