Rosie's Diary

Lesbian House Party

June 10, 2001 - Noonish????

Dee is tall with dark brown eyes. Her kinky ringlets spring out of her head and around her face like a lion's mane. Her jeans are tight but not suffocating, a short halter top exposes her shoulders and her belly button ring sparkles. I was certain even her armpits were gorgeous. (Skittles t-shirt, why?)

She glides straight up to me and gives my biceps a squeeze, "So you're Rosie. Nice to meet Conny's bodyguard." She releases me and folds her arms across her flatty, flat-flat stomach. "I'm Dee."

She smiles and my heart screams, HOLY SHIT. "Hey, hi, I, nice to meet . . . " is all I can manage.

"Nice to meet you too," Dee says. "This is Jomaya."

As the words spill out of Dee's delightful lips another girl extends her hand to shake mine. My eyes now behold . . . well, okay. If Dee is the inhale of air as you take in her gorgeousness, then Jomaya is the exhale. She's pretty, but she can't compete with Dee. ANY other woman in Dee's presence is going to be a runner up. Plus it doesn't help at all when Jomaya shakes my hand like we just closed a million dollar business deal and says, "'Sup. You can call me Boss."

I have to forcibly prevent myself from saying, Are you serious?

Fucking Boss. She's wearing shiny black high-tops, low-riding, black pleather pants. Her boobs are popping out of a tight, also black top. Lips had been glossed and then glossed again. Tats, the most noticeable being one of those patterned Hindu looking type circles covering her right shoulder, the word 'forever' in black cursive running down the inside of her left arm, and a 'B' on her hand above her thumb. I'm guessing she's a vampire, a tarot card reader, or in a band.

I turn my attention away from Boss and back to the rest of the room. I want to say hello to Lorraine, but she's already in deep conversation with AC. Lorraine is wearing a faint peach top and beige chinos. The contrast of her soft outfit to AC's rigid button down and pressed jeans was obvious. And yet, they were the perfect pair. AC wasn't over dressed and out of place next to Lorraine, and Lorraine seemed less like the celebrity of my thoughts. I invite Dee (and Boss) to sit down and ask if they want a cocktail or beer.

Wrist deep in chips, Boss demands, "Beer, chica. But no Heineken, or Coors or Corona. Or Stella."

I hide the Sam Adams in the drawer and pull out three Coronas. Lorraine and AC approach, and while AC gets two wine glasses and cold bottle of white, Lorraine kisses me on the cheek. They head to the seldom-used dining room, never stopping their conversation, happy to be in their own world. Happy to be together. I take a long swig of beer and it burns. It's my first drink in almost two weeks. (Maybe that's why I can't sleep.)

Boss frowns as I hand her the Corona, but Dee smiles in thanks before bringing the bottle to her perfect lips. She opens her mouth and drinks. SWEET JESUS, I almost pee my pants. I want to be her beer so bad I'm ready to scream. I mean, she drank her beer in slow motion! And WHO sits that comfortably in someone else's home? A goddess, that's who! I was amazed, perhaps for the first time in my life, as she drank her beer and owned my couch. My heart was hers. I was already trying to give it to her.

"I'm AC's bodyguard?"

"Yeah, Mom said you called and told her to slow her roll."

"Well I wasn't trying to be rude or anything, but AC was . . . upset, you know, and I didn't want your mom to exacerbate things."

In five short minutes I'd gone so gaga over this girl that I'm launching big words into the stratosphere unnecessarily. Fucking Boss, who was still noisily pawing at the chips while tapping the coffee table with her rings, was all over it.