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The Hook Up: 10-20-2010

I have recently come out in my mid-to-late 20s. I already feel like this is kind of an odd age to come out, seeing as most gay ladies I know came out in their late teens/early twenties. I am also a super femme. I like dresses, makeup, long hair, heels, etc. My first relationship with a woman just ended and I want to go out and meet girls. I feel like my appearance is hindering this a little though.

I don’t know any very femme lesbians. When I go to the gay bars I feel like I get dismissed a lot as a straight tag-along, especially because I have many straight friends. How do I deal with this? How can I go to a gay bar and give off a vibe that I’m open to meeting women?

Anna says: I’ve never understood this phenomenon. I’m femmey, not “super femme,” as you describe yourself, but I do wear tights sometimes. And, often, a cape. Let me ask you this, since we obviously aren’t actually engaging in dialogue because I am drinking a 40 on the floor of my room and listening to Avril Lavigne un-ironically: when you go to these “bars,” are you waiting around for someone to pick you up, or are you actually pursuing and flirting with people who are then dismissing you because you don’t have a fauxhawk and three popped collars? Because if it’s the former, then it’s not your non-sensible shoes that are Birkenstock-blocking you.

It’s like when I stay out until 2 a.m., then go home and instead of sleeping, decide to re-read all my g-chats from the last week, research the difference between yams and sweet potatoes, and is it true that a lesbian owns Victoria’s Secret, and what has Kanye West said on Twitter today, and then wonder why I am so tired the next day at work.

So, there will be no more talk of “vibes” here (unless we are talking about the kind that come with batteries, but that will only further lead me down a tangent and I’ve already wasted a paragraph on an analogy that probably only I think is funny). What were we talking about? Oh right, you meeting chicks.

You must be pro-active, like the acne medication that Katy Pery sells on bus stop advertisements. Flirt shamelessly. If you want to do the “helpless femme” routine aka “topping from the bottom,” you can ask your gal of choice to teach you how to hold a pool stick, her opinion on what music to play at the jukebox, her help with getting the bartender’s attention because having cleavage doesn’t give you an advantage in gay bars for some reason, her take on a made-up debate you and your friend were having about who’s the hotter vampire slayer: Faith or Buffy, etc.

It doesn’t even have to be creative; sometimes you just have to get the ball rolling. A simple: “I really like your chain wallet/Old Navy cargo pants/sensible shoes” is a perfectly fine conversation starter at a gay bar. Make lots of eye contact. Stop short of creepy staring contests though. Touch her arm. Offer to buy her a round of Sex and The Cit-inis, or whatever people are drinking these days. Showing interest in someone has very little to do with where you fall on the femme-to-butch scale. It’s all about confidence, conversation and copious amounts of booze. At least that’s what they tell me. If I ever drink in the company of others again, I’ll let you know.

I’m a 19-year-old chick from the Midwest (who’s in college) that has only ever dated guys, but I’m attracted to certain women. Saying this on a computer Q&A session is so easy, considering I’m anonymous and feeling a little fearless, but in real life I don’t have the balls to find out if I have a gay bone in my body.

For example, my best friend (female) will give me a quick kiss if we’re enjoying (several) cocktails together, but I would never be the aggressive person to find out how she would respond. I guess what I’m asking for is an Anna-Analysis PhD. run-down of your opinion on this situation, if that’s feasible.

Anna says: This is precisely why I got my online PhD in Relationshipology from the good folks at Pwning U. At least, they said they were a school. They sure asked me a lot of questions about lesbians, in either case.

First off, try not to mention “balls” so much. That may work in prison, but out here in the free world, most ghey ladeez prefer not to be reminded of such things when we are pursuing women. Same rule applies to mentions of Axe body spray and Tweety Bird pajamas. Just say no.

Second, the fact that you wrote to me at all shows that there’s probably at least one gay bone in your body, or the several bones required in typing out an email and hitting the send key. And hey, that’s a step! Golf clap for you, my friend. The next step is to ask yourself what you are so afraid of? Being attracted to women doesn’t mean you have to make bold, declarative statements about your sexuality. Nor do you have to change your hairstyle or teach yourself acoustic guitar. Lots of straight chicks are attracted to other chicks. In fact, according to OkCupid: “1 in 3 straight women has hooked up with another woman. And of those who haven’t, 1 in 4 would like to.”

So, in the sage words of Michael Jackson, you are not alone. I am here with you / Though you’re far away / Your bi-curiousness is probably here to stay.

Does this mean you should try to seduce your friend-with-cocktail-benefits? No. I don’t think you’re quite ready. When/if you do get there, there’ll be less fear on your end and more excitement. So take a chillax pill, hone in on those good Midwestern sensibilities and realize that there’s nothing wrong with your desires, regardless of whether you ever decide to act on them or not. Besides, you’re only 19. You have so many mistakes ahead of you! Some of them might as well involve a late night lip lock with a person who shares your plumbing and mutual fondness for Stoli vodka. Again, you don’t have to rush anything, but the only way dating/sex gets any easier is if you actually go out and do it.

You can trust me – I’m a doctor.

Hailing from the rough-and-tumble deserts of southern Arizona, where one doesn’t have to bother with such trivialities as “coats” or “daylight savings time,” Anna Pulley is a professional tweeter/blogger for Mother Jones and a freelance writer living in San Francisco. Find her at annapulley.com and on Twitter @annapulley.

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