What It's Like for a Girl

Bajai Kulture 9.2:04

What It's Like for a Girl
by K-C Bajai

From 1995 to about 1997 I became an honorary lesbian. Certainly by now we've all heard or maybe even used the "lesbian trapped in a man's body" bit. Back then it was new (at least newer than it is now.) I hung out and became friends with and observed and listened to the girls. This experience cemented the idea in my head that there is always a dominant and submissive member of every relationship. I also realized that female/female relationships can and often are just as abusive as male/female relationships. The personalities and attitudes are the same, only the anatomy is different. This isn't to negate the positive aspects of same sex relationships, it simply emphasizes that grass is just as green (or brown) on both sides of the proverbial fence.

While I was in my honorary lesbian phase (I've since learned that there's no resigning such an honor) I seem to have tapped into to my Yin - my feminine side. Now boys, don't go thinking you've got a chickie-boy over on your side of the fence to play with. Don't confuse gentleness for homosexuality. I still love the ladies. I'm not trying to screw my bolts into other bolts. Nonetheless, as I've tapped into a more sensitive part of my psyche, women have responded, in good ways and at times, in ways that have made me uncomfortable.

"How does it feel," one female friend of mine responded when i confided to her about an unwanted kiss. She had obviously been slipped an unwanted tongue a time or two when a cheek was offered too.

I have no problem with sexual tension karma coming my way - not even when it comes from men, I feel after my years of exploits I deserve it. Attention from (possibly) gay men is almost as big a complement as attention from women, hetero- or lesbian. I'm most likely to follow up with the latter - sorry guys, you can look, I'm flattered, but no touching.

So here's the story that all this background has led up to.

A short time ago in one of the gyms where I work, (I probably don't even need to name the place). I was about to hop into the shower. A guy was about to do the same across the aisle. We exchanged cordial words. Despite my penchant for innuendo and double entendres I wasn't sending out such word play - unless - I did say something about hoping not to have to take a cold shower. Uh oh!!

Anyway, I jump into my shower stall and pull the curtain, and shower.

When I'm done I open the curtain to find Mr. Tom peeping at me from his shower stall. He hadn't pulled the curtain all the way. I grabbed my towel and shut my curtain again and dried off. Then I wrapped the towel around me and walked back to my locker.

I was in serious relaxation mode. I had plenty of time before I needed to be anywhere so i wasn't moving very fast. I won't bore you with the details, this isn't a novel and I'm not being paid by the word.

Sitting on the bench separating my sweaty clothes from the clean ones I heard the rustle of a trash can liner, followed by some banging of the trash can. I looked up and over my shoulder and who do you think I see looking at me? That's right, Tom the peeping shower stalker. In a blink I could tell that he'd been standing there for a moment and when i looked his way (I didn't even look AT him, I was looking to see who was making that racket) he moved away as if he'd been caught with his fingers up his nose.

If a female were telling me this story I'd give the alleged stalker the benefit of the doubt; "well maybe he, this" or, "maybe he that," I'd say... and in the back of my mind I'm just thinking it's a series of coincidences. But maybe they're not. My senses have been honed in bad neighborhoods, military training, night clubs and various situations where erring on the side of caution is preferable to being caught with my pants down. Plus, it makes for a good story.

Like I say, I certainly don't mind being looked at. I've done my share of looking, leering, gauking, oogling. Sure, it's my artistic eye, my appreciation for beauty, my heterosexuality - I'm not trying to scare, anger or threaten the women I look at and I'm sure Mr. Peepers wasn't trying to rattle my ire either. Perhaps he liked what he saw and wanted to see more.

Hubba hubba.

So when Madonna sings, "Do you know what it's like for a girl?" My answer is still unequivically NO! But i have an idea, so i try to keep my dog on its leash. It's a balancing act between expressing a physical attraction, appreciation for beauty, biological desires, and the need to let you (her) know that I'm not going to hurt you.