'Til The Cows Come Home

I Kissed A Girl (Won't Change The World)

Two years ago, one of my best friends during my spa employment days packed up and moved across the pond with her British lesbian lover where they play house in Brighton. She's been back in town to renovate and sell her Park Slope apartment (if only I had $572,000...and didn't hate the commute to Brooklyn).

Last night she threw a White Party in honor of her final night in her New York home. It was a huge hurrah at the party pad that held so many memories for all of us. Most of our old spa pals were present. It felt like we never missed a beat - a vivid throwback to the good old days. All the guests wore white, the food was white, the beverages were as white as they could be (when someone attempted to open a bottle of red wine, they were harshly reprimanded).

When you're at a party predominantly comprised of lesbians and someone dares you to kiss a girl, you have no choice but to rise to the challenge (well, not literally). No flighty faggot wants to look like a wimp in a room full of power dykes. When you've had three White Russians, one gin and tonic, three frozen mojitos, and one glass each of white wine and champagne, it only serves to help.

So I kissed a girl - the girl, the host of the party. Kissing a lesbian is a lot like kissing a man, so it wasn't bad at all. And I meant absolutely no disrespect to her when I put on some gay porn the second I stumbled through my apartment door.

Posted by mak at September 3, 2005 12:10 PM