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“Ohhhh, what about one called ‘Loveshake’? Like, a boozy milkshake. Can you do that, sugar?”
Greta shook her head and laughed at her best friend. “May, does that brain of yours ever stop for gas?”
Maybelle slapped her own leg in the passenger seat of Greta’s SUV, “I think you already know the answer to that one!”
“Why did I agree to work this particular event with you again?” Greta wondered aloud.
From the backseat, the voice of reason in any group, Shirley chimed in. “Because you know how hard it is to get ANY business off the ground, but especially a lesbian one, AND this is our app’s first speed dating event, AND we actually have a sponsor…and, you know, we couldn’t afford the event space, and a world class bartender.”
“Flattery will get you EVERYwhere with me.”
May was still shooting off cute gay drink ideas while Greta tapped her long fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music. If she was being honest, this was an ideal setup for her. She was going to a lesbian dating event, but NOT as one of the poor souls actually in the meet market. She was doing the math in her head. Was this the longest dry spell she had ever had? She wasn’t intentionally not seeing anyone. She just hadn’t met anyone that really excited her in what felt like ages.
Shirley interrupted her internalizing, “Anyway, we have a few friends coming that won’t actually be participating in the dating part. It could just be a good opportunity to meet some new friends. No pressure.”
They parked and started hefting all the booze and decorations into the bar.
Two hours, and five meltdowns later, the start time was approaching, and Greta was behind in her setup. She decided to stack three boxes of Grey Goose sideways on top on each other to save herself some time. She didn’t realize the top box was open, and she was helpless as two bottles started to fall. She only had a fraction of a second to acknowledge that if she contorted to try to brace their fall, she’d drop the other boxes.
Just then, she heard a voice call out. “Woah there, I gotcha.” And the two bottles were saved from impact with the floor.
Greta turned, “Oh my God, thank you SO much. You just saved my-“ she met eyes with her hero of the moment and was struck by the woman standing in front of her.
“A little ambitious, even for an Amazonian.”
Greta grinned. Woman were always commenting on her height. “That’s one I haven’t heard before!”
The stranger shrugged. “Seemed fitting. Can I take one of those off your hands?”
“Sure.” She gave the woman a once over. She was cute as hell. Maybe 5’5” with dark brown hair cut in layers just past her shoulders, framing soft, round facial features and very curious dark brown eyes. She had a black sheer V-neck on that accentuated very full breasts. Greta’s eyes un-smoothly dwelled there too long, and the shorter woman cleared her throat.
“I’m Carson.” she offered.
“Greta.”
“Good! You’ve met!” Maybelle was on them in a hurry. “This is my very very good friend from work. She agreed to help us out tonight, too. Good for all of us that she’s trying to keep her mind off her divorce which was finally just stamped by the county last night!”
“Jeez, May.” Carson seemed embarrassed.
The three walked toward the bar together.
“Congratulations? Or condolences?” Greta asked.
“Both, I think.” was Carson’s somewhat sad response.
Greta pursed her lips.
“NONSENSE!” May barked. “That asshole will never find anyone better for him than you, sugar!”
Greta was grateful she had turned to put the boxes down to hide the surprise on her face. ‘Straight?’ she thought to herself, ‘damn.’
“I need you over here, love.” May pulled Carson’s arm. She turned and waved at Greta.
**
“Absolutely zero chance I will do that.” Carson stated adamantly. “NO.”
“C’mon!” Shirley pleaded. “We have an odd number of women now, and you said you were ready to start getting out there.”
“I’m not. I lied. I was a different Carson when I said that. Also, newsflash, I’m not actually gay.”
“Didn’t you say you had a thing for that girl in college? You were in love with her!”
“I was 19! And a not-even-half-functional alcoholic! We all were in love with everyone!”
“What harm could it possibly do?! Who knows, lightning could strike. Please, Carson.”
For Shirley to call her that and not some cute kid name like Tiger or Kiddo meant she was serious. “UUUUUGGHHHH!”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Shirley slapped the sticker that she had already been writing on Carson’s chest. “Drinks are on us tonight, it’s the least we can do.”
Carson pinched the bridge of her nose. “For a month! Drinks are on you for a month!”
“Sure, sure, sure. OK, I’m gonna kick us off.”
Shirley ran to update Maybelle on Carson’s participation. May ran over to the bar to tell Greta. “Hey, sweetie, Carson drinks for free tonight, ok? She is filling in for a last-minute dropout to keep us even.”
“Isn’t she straight?” Greta asked.
“My professional diagnosis is: spaghetti straight. But, anyway, drinks are on us for her.”
Shirley killed the music and took the mic and explained the rules of the game. One woman would stay seated on one side of the small tables, while the other side would rotate. They had 10 minutes each. They would break in an hour for a half hour and then do round two.
As women were finding their seats, Greta hurriedly put together a drink and ran over to where Carson was seated, trying her best not look miserable.
“Thought you might need this,” she put the drink down and put a hand on Carson’s shoulder, “It’s a double.”
“Bless you.” Carson said. “Hey, do you want to swap? I could work the bar for you!”
Greta took pity, but she was also pretty entertained, and couldn’t wait to watch the results. She leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Not on your life, cutie.”
Carson couldn’t control or explain the mile wide smile at the term of endearment, and the touch of Greta’s lips to her cheek. She would have given anything to get up and follow her back to the bar.
She traced her fingers over where Greta’s lips had touched, but before she had time to think more about why it felt so warm, a woman sat down across from her. She tried her best not to look disappointed. She did really like getting to know new people, and always had way more girlfriends than guy friends anyway.
Shirley pressed down on an airhorn to signal time was starting.
Carson spoke first, “Hi, I’m –“
“Let me guess,” the blonde stranger started. “A cancer?”
“Umm, no? I’m Carson.”
“What was the date and time of your birth, Carson?”
Carson chuckled until she realized the woman across from her was perfectly serious. “Oh, umm January 23rd, maybe 7:00pm? I think.”
The woman punched that into her phone and started scrolling. Carson couldn’t believe it. She hoped they could just carry on. “So, what’s your –“
“Ohhh you’re a Libra moon! I love you!”
“Thanks?” Carson was starting to think that this ten minutes was going to feel like a lifetime.
“Yeah, that means you really like that which makes people unique.”
Carson wanted to roll her eyes so badly. She decided she’d have some fun with this. “Well, sure. Let me ask, do you meet a lot of people who are like, ‘No, only the most basic of bitches for me, thanks!’?”
The woman didn’t seem to even notice her smart mouth reply.
“Oh.” The woman put her hand over her mouth and finally looked up. “Oh, no.”
“What??”
“Your Venus is in Aquarius.”
“I mean, not since last Tuesday.”
Still, not even a chuckle.
At that moment, Greta was so so grateful she was within earshot of this conversation with no music to drown out the dialogue. She was also happy she could see Carson’s face from her vantage point.
The blonde woman put her phone down. “That means you’re into really freaky sex.”
“I’m sorry, what?!”
“So, you’re not? I find that hard to believe.”
Carson was starting to doubt just how much she liked meeting new people after all. “Can I ask you something? How do you feel about nature vs nurture?”
“What is that?”
Carson looked over at the timer, crushed to see that less than three minutes of the ten had passed. “Well, things people are born into or with –“
“Like signs?”
“Sure, or like, genetics. So, things they are born with versus the environment they grow up in.”
“I don’t follow.”
Like Carson wasn’t painfully aware of that fact. “So, do you think how we were raised, or what we’ve experienced has no bearing on who we are because all this stuff is pre-determined the moment we pop out of the womb?”
“Oh, no! Not at all! Look here, my bestie has almost the same exact star chart that I do, but we’re TOTALLY different.”
She said this with such seriousness that Carson had to hold back a laugh.
She didn’t notice that she and Greta pinched the bridges of their noses simultaneously, but Greta took note.
“So,” Carson asked, why do you doubt that I’m not into freaky sex?”
“Because of your chart.” The woman said flatly.
Carson quit. She decided to just ask a question to let her fill up the rest of their time. “How did you get into this?”
That was all it took. She didn’t have to say a word the rest of their time together.
When the horn went off again, a short brunette sat across from her.
“Hello, I’m Pam.”
“Carson. Hi there. It’s nice to meet you.” Carson replied, relived this woman seemed more down to earth.
“So, what brings you to an event like this Carson? Having as hard a time finding a new leading lady as I am?”
Carson all of a sudden felt bad that she might be misleading women who were genuinely here to make new romantic connections. She decided she’d let herself be open to exploring the idea of actually spending more time if she met someone she really liked. She did often have massive crushes on women in the past. Maybe this was what she needed for her next chapter. “Not exactly,” she responded, not wanting to full on lie, “I’m just out of a 12-year relationship.”
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry to hear that. Her loss is our gain, though.” Pam smiled very genuinely.
They had a perfectly nice chat. The 10 minutes actually seemed to fly by. Carson rose to shake Pam’s hand when Shirley indicated time was up.
“Hi, I’m Shelly.” A tall black-haired woman held out her hand and sat when Carson did. “Wow, you’re so cute. Have I seen you around here before?”
Carson blushed. Greta was surprised that the easy flattery had that effect on her. It was super endearing.
“No, it’s my first time here. I’m Carson.”
“Are you sure?” Shelly asked. “I never forget a face. Are you sure I haven’t seen you at the Den?”
“The what?”
“The Den of Iniquity.”
Carson searched her brain and came up totally blank. “Is that a local museum?”
Shelly laughed. Carson noted that it sounded a little maniacal.
“It’s a BDSM club downtown. I work there.”
“Oh.” Carson tried to control her surprise. “I’ve never been to one of those.”
“No?” She took one of Carson’s hands from the table and inspected it. “These look like they know their way around knots.”
Her back shot straight up, and all she could manage to push out of her mouth was, “Ummmm.”
“Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part.”
Carson gently withdrew her hand and leaned back. She took a not small swig of the drink; grateful Greta made it so strong.
Shelly sat back, too. “Could you ever see yourself as a sub?”
Carson sat through the horror that was the first Fifty Shades of Grey movie, she wished she didn’t know what Shelly was asking. “I don’t know, probably not, like, in a real, actual, I mean… no.”
The bumbling was so cute, Greta almost couldn’t stand it.
“Could have fooled me.” Shelly shot back.
Carson’s eyes shot back up to meet the challenge in Shelly’s. “That’s just not my scene. Don’t get me wrong, no judgement. Different strokes, I guess.”
Greta and Shelly both raised an eyebrow at Carson’s word choice.
“No, not like, I just meant… oh God.” She finished on a breath and took another drink.
“You don’t have to call me that just yet, Carson.”
How the first 20 minutes of this ordeal could have proven even worse than Carson thought was mystifying.
The next few women were actually tame in comparison, but that didn’t mean Carson was anything short of elated when it was time for a break. She stood up quickly and hurried over to the bar. She desperately needed more alcohol to endure another hour of this madness. She was happy to be the first person at the bar, and see a friendly face.
“Hi, can I have maybe, 84 more of these?”
Greta laughed.
Carson couldn’t help but smile with her. She had a beautiful laugh. “You laugh with your whole body.” Carson said. “I love it.”
Of all the compliments Greta had received in her life, this one went straight to her stomach and sent butterflies scrambling around. “Thanks. Doesn’t seem like you’ve had much to laugh about.”
While Greta started pouring, Carson looked over to where she was seated, and realized she had an audience. “Oh no, did you hear all that?”
“Uh, YES, and I have to say, I am really glad I didn’t take you up on your offer to swap.”
Carson was smiling in spite of the circumstances. “I don’t know. I think you could probably take that Shelly girl.”
They both laughed. Greta hated that a line had formed behind Carson. She pushed a glass twice the size of the first one at her. “Hey, I saw a couple more people come in after the first round started. Why don’t you go find May and ask if someone can tag you out. Then you CAN actually help me back here.”
Carson’s eyes lit up. She set off to find May. Greta was so pretty. Carson couldn’t stop thinking that. Was it wrong to assume she was gay? It was odd, she thought to herself as she weaved through bar patrons, as much as she wanted to be spared the agony of more speed dates, she found herself more excited at the idea of spending a couple more hours with Greta.
She found May chatting up a group of women and asked if she could talk to her. “Hey, Greta said she saw some other people arrive after this thing started. Is there someone that can take over the second half for me?”
“Awww, but honey, then someone will only get to meet six ladies, not 12, and I actually hoped you’d be having a good time!”
“Six is better than none, right? I will personally fill them in on the six I met. I’ll give really really super detailed notes…in triplicate…Please, May.”
May actually seemed a little bummed. Carson rarely saw that in her friend. “I’ll still stay to help! Greta said she could use a hand at the bar.”
This brightened May right up. “Ok, let me go grab Shirl and tell her.”
Carson put her hand on May’s shoulder. “Wait, um-“ Carson looked at her shoes. “What’s Greta’s deal?”
May raised one eyebrow and tucked her tongue in her cheek, but controlled her expression when Carson looked back up to her eyes. “Her deal?”
“Yeah, I mean, is she um, is she a lesbian?”
“Mmmhmmm.”
“Oh!” Carson felt a relief she wasn’t expecting. “Well, she’s probably got a girlfriend, or like, 12, right?”
May cocked her head to the side in question.
“I mean, she’s gorgeous, and really funny.”
“She’s single sweetie, and she’s very, very, VERY good people.”
May left Carson as her mind trailed off elsewhere. Why did the idea of Greta being single make her chest swell like that? Carson didn’t think she had a type of woman. The ones she’d been attracted to in the past were all pretty different, and she was already with Charlie for most of them. While he drunkenly asked if they could have a threesome with a co-worker of his once, (she still shook her head at herself for not dumping him on the spot,) he made it clear his delicate male ego couldn’t handle non-monogamy.
A long line had formed, and Greta was moving fast behind the bar. Carson paused a moment to watch her. She couldn’t help it, her eyes focused on her hands. Her long fingers were very….expressive. When she used one of her beautiful hands to wipe her forehead, Carson realized she needed to stop gawking and actually help her out. She hurried through the throngs of people that had shown up.
“Hey!” she said as she squeezed herself behind the bar. “Help has arrived!”
Greta didn’t look up from the drink she was mixing, but smiled and couldn’t stop herself from pressing her tongue into her two front teeth. “Perfect! Grab four of the bigger cups, fill them with ice, pour two shots of Goose into each, then fill them with diet coke.
Carson nodded, pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket, and used them to push her hair back. Greta did look over as she did that.
“What?” Carson asked. “I don’t like my hair up.”
Greta shook her head. “It’s $30, cutie.”
Carson couldn’t help but wince. Ok, she called everyone ‘cutie’, she wasn’t actually calling Carson cute earlier. ‘It was probably just as well,’ she thought to herself. She was way out of her league anyway.
The shorter woman was being deliberate in her measuring and pouring of the four drinks as Greta took the next order. To fix the next drinks, she had to reach across Carson to grab a mixer. She was close enough that Carson caught a whiff of her perfume, and overfilled one of the shot glasses, pouring extra vodka into the glass. She recovered and filled it the rest of the way with diet coke.
Without waiting for any cue, Greta grabbed it and handed it to the woman waiting by the side of the bar. “Got yourself a strong one there.” she said to the patron.
Carson flushed. ‘Busted.’
They started to find a rhythm behind the bar. Greta was giving Carson the easy drinks to make and handling the more complicated ones herself. Every couple of minutes, Greta would touch Carson in some small way; reaching behind her and placing a hand on the small of her back, or touching her forearm to signal for something. Carson felt it every time. She was feeling warmer than she had 10 minutes earlier.
Once Shirley gave a 10-minute warning for the daters to return to their positions, the line started to thin out. It slowed enough for them to actually be able to chat.
Greta spoke first. “Your first time slinging cocktails?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Greta shrugged as she took cash from a woman. “It was cute. I like to watch you.”
Carson couldn’t help her mouth from popping open momentarily. The night had been a roller coaster. She was amused and intrigued by the redhead since they had met. She briefly thought she might ask her out, but then reconsidered, and now was reconsidering again. She decided to test the waters. “I actually had a similar thought about you a few minutes ago.”
If Greta was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Oh?” she asked as she took the next order.
“Yeah, I was fixated on your hands for a minute there.”
Greta WAS surprised. While May did mention that she might not be 100% heterosexual, she didn’t quite read that Carson might be into her. She was also a close friend of a close friend, which could always get messy. ‘Get over yourself’, she thought to herself, ‘Maybe she’s just flirty by nature’. Greta knew a thing or two about how to do that. She handed the customer their vodka-cran, and was grateful there wasn’t another person waiting to order right that second. She turned to Carson and exaggeratedly wiggled her fingers. “What, these old things?”
Carson smiled as she rubbed her own hand.
“Occupational hazard.” Greta offered. She took a half step closer to the brunette. That was all the space there really was in the cramped space. She held hers out, “May I?”
Carson didn’t hesitate. She offered her right hand.
Greta pressed her thumbs into her palm, paying particular attention to the base of her thumb. Greta acknowledged how nice it felt but was hesitant to look Carson in the eye.
They stood in charged silence for a moment. Greta took the other hand. She could feel Carson staring at her. She could hear her steady, deep breathing. Why did it feel like this to stand with this stranger? She had to say something. “Your hands are warm.” She hesitantly looked up to meet Carson’s gaze.
“Yeah, I run warm.” Carson almost whispered. She acknowledged that there was less than a foot between them.
Greta kept Carson’s hand in hers but stopped rubbing as they held eye contact.
“Can I get four Stellas?” a stranger interrupted.
Greta actually had to shake her head clear. “Of course.”
Carson opened two, Greta opened the other two.
“Teamwork makes the dream work.” Carson offered.
Greta raised both eyebrows as she made change.
“Sorry,” Carson shook her head and looked at her feet. “That was lame.”
Greta looked at her. She hadn’t felt this kind of edgy nervousness in recent memory. She needed to know more. “You’re not lame, Carson. Far from it, actually.”
Carson’s eyes shot up, and the smile plastered on her face was so genuine, and adorable, it almost made Greta’s heart melt.
Carson’s subconscious was screaming at her, but that other voice in her head gripped a hand over her subconscious’ mouth and gave Carson an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Well, hey,” she pulled the sunglasses off her head and ran a hand through her hair. It made a wave fall to frame her face.
Greta hand to stop herself from tucking it behind Carson’s ear. WHY was she so eager to touch her again?
“I’ve never done any of this before-“
Another patron walked up; Carson almost cursed aloud.
Greta picked up on the frustration and felt hope spring. She quickly poured one glass of red and one of white and took the cash quickly to return to Carson. “You’ve never attended a lesbian speed dating event as a straight woman and-“
Carson interrupted. “I mean straight sounds pretty…” she trailed off. She didn’t know what she wanted to say.
Greta decided to give her an out. “You mean those women turned you that quick?”
The first thought that came to Carson’s mind was painfully lame, but you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. “Well, no…not them.”
Greta turned so fast, she had to move a red curl from her face.
Unfortunately, a steadier stream of customers approached the bar, and they had to get back into work mode. Once Shirley called time, they were back to a frantic serving pace.
A simultaneously painful and adorable hour passed in a snap. The women kept finding ways to touch or laugh; there was even a hip bump or two. They were both grateful when May yelled out for last call. When the final patron was served, Greta poured out two drinks. Once for each of them. They clinked glasses and each took a sizeable gulp.
“Let me count out half these tips for you.” Greta said.
“Oh, God, no, please. This is your deal. I was probably more of a hinderance then a help anyway, AND,” she continued before Greta could object. “You saved me from having to do round two, so really, I should be paying you.”
Greta chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Well, maybe I could use it to buy you a drink?”
Carson tried to control the excitement that Greta wanted to see her again. She pushed her mouth closed and over to one side, revealing a dimple Greta hadn’t noticed before. She held up her glass and shrugged.
Greta laughed. “Dinner then?”
Carson couldn’t believe it. “I would love that.”
“It’s a date!”
Carson considered. “When I want a second date, do I have to endure another event like this?”
Greta was thoroughly amused. “I mean, running a bar together could be fun.”
Carson waved her hand midair mimicking a sign, “Gretson’s.”
“I like the sound of that.” Greta said, and she hadn’t spoken truer words in longer than she could remember.