STL. 2 PHL, vol. 2

 

 

STL 2 PHL, vol. 2

Kate opened the door and stepped onto the stoop of her apartment building.  The air was brisk and smelled damp, like the snowflakes were invisible and waiting for the perfect moment to appear. A sharp gust of wind struck Kate and forced her to take her first step of the night’s journey. 

As she stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, she realized she didn’t know a single thing about the nightlife in her new city. A small group of girls her age passed her going in one direction; a young couple passed her going in the other. Kate silently went through her customary “Eeny, Meeny, Miney, Mo” ritual as quickly as she could. 

“Left, it is”, she said to herself, with a certainty that pleased her.

As she began roaming from block to block, she noticed that nearly everything about the city was foreign to her. She didn’t recognize any of the streets, buildings, local papers or businesses. She didn’t know where she could find a cheap glass of wine, a good book, an old movie or decent live music. The people she saw were just as unfamiliar, passing hurriedly, without so much as a glance toward her. Just as Kate was beginning to feel the tears starting to work their way back up to her tired eyes, her mother’s calming voice popped into her head, “You’ll be comfortable there in no time, Katie”. The encouraging words produced a slight grin. She shook the tears back down, un-furrowed her eyebrows and continued on her way.

At the corner up ahead, two women were getting out of a cab. As one of them reached back in the passenger window to pay the driver, the other adjusted her sport jacket and tie. Her jeans were fairly tight at the waist and grew looser at her knees. Kate was totally consumed and fascinated by the handsome woman. She drastically slowed her pace in order to maximize the time she had to fully take-in the rare beauty. The mystery woman had short black, spiky hair and a light olive-colored skin. She had sharp, masculine features and Kate couldn’t keep her eyes off of her. As Kate walked at an abnormally sluggish speed, stumbling here and there, it happened. Without warning, the woman glanced in Kate’s direction and for a fraction of a second, their eyes met. Kate felt her heart leap into her mouth. She shyly closed her eyes and looked down at the ground. After a painful moment of inner-conflict, she looked back up to the corner where the woman had been standing. Kate saw the cab speeding off down the dark street, but no mystery woman. Kate hurried to the corner, and peered to the right, down the cross street. There she was, about a half of a block away, walking side-by-side with her companion.  

“Right, it is”, she said to herself, with an uncertainty that pleased her.

 – Jenny Dugger

 

STL 2 PHL is a monthly column that is an ongoing short story about Kate, an adventurous lesbian new to Philly.  Make sure you read previous versions of STL 2 PHL before you read the new one!

 

Photo by Jamielee Kircher of Dackel Photography

www.dackelphotography.com

  

 

 

Gay Speed Dating is FUNdamental

Photo by Dan Berlin

Gay Speed Dating is FUNdamental

I, with gentle prodding from friends, am putting myself “out there,” whatever that means. If you’re like me, you have a group of established friends, and unless the women in that group bring in new prospects (work friends, college friends, ex-girlfriends, one night stands that mistake your bedroom for the bathroom…), then finding a date seems impossible (and no, coworkers do not count). So what’s a lesbian to do? Do I stand on a street corner holding a sign saying, “will promise not to bring drama into our relationship?” Do I answer every bad Craigslist w4w post? Do I buy a drink for every woman at Sisters and end up going into credit card debt? Personally, I like it a little better when there is a little less drinking and a little more conversation. So, with the aforementioned prodding friends, I figure what better way then to meet a lot of new people, in a relatively supportive environment, than Gay Speed Dating?

Yes, you read correctly. Gay Speed Dating. [When one thinks about speed dating, one conjures up an images of women drinking martini’s in low cut outfits making inane conversation with whatever man sits down across from her.] William Way marketed this semi annual gay and lesbian event as “a night of fun and romance.” I decided on a whim that this might be fun, and if it wasn’t, it certainly would be good for a laugh…remember when we went speed dating…

Of course, no lezzie outing is complete without the company of other lezzie friends. So with the support of two of my friends, I walked into the William Way – and saw that we were the only women there. We distracted ourselves with the art on the walls, with the subconscious purpose of looking worldly and sophisticated. (Look at us, we like art!) Another few minutes passed and more women shuffled in; they furtively darted their eyes at the others in the room. Did we pass inspection? Still too early to begin, we took a seat. Looking around I was amused/frustrated to see that “J” was there. “J” and I went out one time. Armed with superior small talking skills, I felt comfortable that if we did “speed date” each other, I could be nonchalant.

The organizers finally opened the gay speed dating flood gates and let us in. We were all given a number. I was excited to learn there were snacks! If the evening went sour, I always had snow peas to look back on – they make me happy. The numbers we were given turned out to be important. All the even numbered people sat down at a table, and all the odd numbered people were to rotate around them. We had 1-2 minutes to make a deep and meaningful connection before moving on the next potential soul mate. If you liked the person you saw across from you, you wrote their name on a card. If they wrote your name down as a potential something something, then the organizers would make the “match” by sending you each others info after the event ended.

The first “date” I had was with one of the friends I brought, which instantly broke the ice. Some highlights from the conversations include: what do you do? | Yes, this is a tight election. | Really, you’re from Baltimore, why are you here? | I’m sure we could find a great sperm donor for our first born from the group of gay men over there. | Tansania? Really, wow, that’s awesome. | When did you come out?

After almost an hour and a half of speed dating fun, the organizers called it a night. They were overwhelmed by the turn out and apologized for not allowing time for all the odds and evens to meet, and encouraged us to mingle afterwards. Seeking out snowpeas, I stuck around. I decided that I wasn’t ready for the fun to end and so I invited some new people to join me and my lezzie support system for a quick bite at Cosi. It turned to be a wonderful time.

While I doubt I made any significant love matches that evening, I did have the promised romance and fun that William Way had advertised. Even if one of those dates were with someone I had dated already. And if nothing else, I had more of an opportunity to make new friends … and as we all know, new friends lead to potential new relationships. – Sasha 

Question for the reader:

What are some tactics you’ve tried to put yourself “out there” and meet other women? Were they successful?

Links:

William Way Center: WayGay.org

PhillyGayCalendar.org

MEN at the North Star Bar

 

 

MEN at the North Star Bar

Philadelphia PA (3/5/07)

 

“My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,” thumps through the P.A. as Philadelphia’s butchiests playfully dry-hump on the dance floor; John Waters can only wish this was of his doing.  But no, it was two-thirds of post-riot grrrl electro-punk band Le Tigre: JD Samson and Johanna Fatemen.  The duo, now known as MEN, hit the North Star Bar on March 5 to play to a crowd of around 25.

With no album, just two songs on their MySpace page and an open letter to fans for requests, no one knew exactly what MEN was.  This question was answered in glaring obviousness when Jo took the stage (consisting of nothing but a row of laptops), donning a t-shirt proclaiming “MEN ARE DJS,” The two then went into “It’s Raining Men,” an obvious, yet shocking opening number.  

The experience turned out to be a sweaty evening of hipster feminism shaking to the beat of music regularly found in clubs where people in Hollister cargo shorts dance around inflatable palm trees.  There was nothing overtly political in the air, just LYKEable Philthadelphians dancing to music that they would most likely mock, if it hadn’t been presented to them by these pop dykons.  With the exception of the Gossip’s “Yr Mangled Heart,” the set avoided anything associated with riot grrrl and stuck to more-than-slightly-less-hip ditty’s like “Hollaback Girl.”  Although this was not nearly as moving as seeing the “Hot Topic” slideshow for the first time or getting to shout “Keep on Livin’” along with a capacity crowd at the Black Cat, it was the best feminist dance party the city of Sisterly Affection has seen since The Slits reunited.  While “Blue Monday” proved to be the musical highlight of the night, the evening’s most enjoyable moment came as JD could be spotted mouthing the lyrics to “Tootsee Roll,” a classic of 90s misogyny.  And yes, seeing punk’s favorite nerdy, white dyke sing “work them hips a lil’ bit, then do that dip a lil’ bit,” is just as amusing as you would imagine. (Izzy Cihak)

 

 

Question to Reader:  With Le Tigre’s indefinite hiatus still in full affect, which side has your allegiance, Kathleen or Jo and JD?  Despite Bikini Kill and Julie Ruin, I’m sticking with Jo and JD because, let’s face it, when Kathleen is in rant mode, she can be more than a little irritating.

 

Links: 

MEN on Myspace

http://profile.myspace.com/mrandmrsmen

http://northstarbar.com

 

LYKEable Celluloid, Vol. 2

 

 

“LYKEable Celluloid” vol. 2

All Over Me

 

Nothing was bringing adolescent girls of the mid-90s out of the closet like Sleater-Kinney, roller-skates, and Leisha Hailey.  However, it wasn’t until 1996’s All Over Me that these things finally came together – aside from in teenage daydreams.

All Over Me is a classical coming-of-age story set to a riot grrrl beat.  After failing to seduce Nicole Kidman in To Die For, a butch Alison Folland (playing the part of “Claude”) sets her goals even higher as she tries her luck with a waifish Tara Subkoff (as “Ellen”).  Claude and Ellen were lifelong BFFs who spent their days sitting in Claude’s bedroom, amidst posters of Patti Smith and Helium, strumming guitars and dreaming of being the next great grrrl band.  But by the time they hit 15 Claude decided that she not only wanted to be Carrie Brownstein, but she wanted Ellen to be her Corin Tucker (at least for that ever too brief period lamented in “One More Hour”).  Unfortunately, Ellen found the world of drugs and gay bashings to be more appealing and leaves Claude behind for her homophobic, drug-dealing boyfriend and nights of walking the streets in CFM heels.  Things turn out okay for Claude though: while at an indie club she runs into a pink-haired Leisha Hailey (“Lucy”) fronting Coochie Pop (a grrrl band nearly as appealing as Hailey’s real-life projects, the Murmurs and Uh Huh Her) and by the film’s end the two are walking hand-in-hand down the street.

Although the film focuses on the decaying relationship of Claude and Ellen, the relationship flourishing between Claude and Lucy is even more significant, as Lucy is the one who finally makes her comfortable in her own LYKEability.  The scenes of Folland and Hailey prove to be not only the most provocative, but also the most powerful.  Claude’s transformation into an self-assured adult is stunning, starting with her breakdown after her and Lucy’s first kiss (beautifully set to the soundtrack of Patti Smith’s “Pissing in a River”) to the first time the two appear in Claude’s room (Ellen’s former sanctuary) kissing and strumming guitars (Claude previously stated “I can’t do [music] without Ellen”).

Leisha Hailey is not the only 90s icon to help Claude along on her journey.  The film also includes My So Called Life’s Wilson Cruz as, you guessed it, a young and naïve gay male; Pat Briggs of Psychotica (whose sound unfortunately wouldn’t have quite fit into this movie) as the fairy godfather to Claude and Jesse (Cruz); and even Vincent Pastore, “Big Pussy” from The Sopranos (although it would be fun to draw conclusions between “Big Pussy” and “LYKEable Celluloid,” this film was released years before the HBO series).

Sylvia and Alex Sichel (Sylvia writing and Alex directing) began All Over Me after receiving a grant to make a film about riot grrrl (oddly enough, during the scene’s media blackout).  While the film never directly mentions the movement, its soundtrack does include classics by Babes in Toyland and Tuscadero and music remains the most important aspect of the movie.  After all, the world of music has always been more accepting of outsiders, such as the Rainbow Brite-esuqe Lucy and the highly effeminate Luke (Briggs), which is what makes it so appealing for Claude: it may be her only path of survival.  She proves to be right and in the end it’s Lucy, the riffing riot grrrl, who saves her – which is why this film should have been called I Wanna Be Your Corin Tucker. (Izzy Cihak)

 

 

 

Question to Reader:

If it you had the choice, who would be your Corin Tucker: Tara Subkoff, downtown’s princess of high fashion or Leisha Hailey, recently voted sexiest female on “The AfterEllen.com Hot 100 List?”  For me, this question is far too difficult to answer.  I’ve spent a week mulling over this and I can’t decide whether hanging in NYC’s uber hip art scene with Tara or shaking my ass at punk clubs to Leisha’s beats is more appealing, so you tell me.