Transplanted Life
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Now, I suppose I "should" be writing about what happened this weekend, and I will, tomorrow, when I can hopefully see it in my head and think about it and what it means for long enough to really have coherent thoughts and analysis on the subject as opposed to right now, when any attempt to think about another subject invariably winds up with the image that hit me when I got back tonight and brought my stuff into my room.

That image, of course, being Maureen on Carter's bed and Carter on top of her.

I immediately got flustered and backed off, although not without banging my things against the doorframe enough to attract their attention. When she came out a minute later, Maureen's face was much redder than her hair, and she stammered that she needed to get some things from the store because even if we're not out we could probably use more.

Carter, on the other hand, was just lying on her bed in her bra and panties, smiling. Marty old boy, he says, it is so good to know that even after everything, the ladies still want me.

I'm still kind of in shock at this point, so I ask how long...

Well, she says, Mo and I have been hanging out together a lot, doing stuff together while you're off doing your thing with your friends and boyfriend, and I was thinking how cute she was, but it wasn't until you and Nat headed down to Florida for the weekend that she made any mention of... you know. And she was all apologizing afterward, saying that she didn't have much experience with guys, let along with girls. I told her it was okay, because I do know how to please a woman, and she could learn from me.

I said something about having no idea and Carter said, yeah, she doesn't exactly scream dyke what with all the pink and the family bible and all. I stiffened a little bit at the language, and asked if she was just being vulgar or whether this was like the n-word, where it's apparently okay to use within the group but a slur if someone else uses it. Carter was all "what do you mean..." for a second until she realized that, yeah, someone could throw that word at her now, too.

While she was quiet for a second, I asked if they were just experimenting or if this was, well, a thing. She asked why it had to be either, and I said that even if Maureen likes girls, she still is one, and even if Carter didn't have the mindset yet, she'd had enough experience with them to have some knowledge of it. Carter said she didn't know, since it was still early, and I said okay, fine, have you told her?

I totally know that I was sounding like her mother or something here, and I said as much, but let's face it, if Carter was going to be intimate with Maureen, well, secrets hurt, and I know that from experience. Carter said she hadn't, yet, but it was certainly something to think of. Then she changed the subject by asking be about my weekend.

So, anyway, that was an hour of trying to write about the weekend ago, and Maureen's still not back. I'd ring her cellphone if I hadn't seen it sitting on the kitchen counter fifteen minutes ago. I don't know why she's so embarrassed; it's not like I'm in any position to judge her harshly.

I'll get to my visit with "mom" later; now I've got to crash so that I can handle a day-shift tomorrow.

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