Two Lesbian Encounters

Some Wednesdays back,  two to five patrons were at my DJ gig at Little Fish-Huge Pond.  I was at the last half hour.

I noticed two women walking in, women I saw earlier in the bar.  With boyish short hair and dressed in jeans, I assumed these two young white ladies as lesbians. Hell, I didn’t care. I was just happy to see more people in the bar.

They talked to the owner.  Then, I noticed one of them kept looking at me, not in a kind way either.  Because I was playing cheesy seventies music, I thought she had a problem with my set. Earlier, my buddy Matt flicked me a bird for playing “All By Myself” by Eric Carmen …as he sung the lyrics word for word.

Later on, I learned the lesbian’s real problem. Her and her friend were musicians.  They wanted to perform that night. Yet, because I was DJing, they couldn’t.  Well, it was my fuckin’ night, not theirs.

Yet, Miss Attitude wanted to me leave the stage and let her and her buddy perform.

Whatever floats your boat.

Because my gig was already over for the night, I left the stage.

Miss Attitude then got onstage and attempted to set up guitar equipment and a mic.

“She’s a good singer,” Miss Attitude said. She was referring to her buddy.

“I told her open-mic was tomorrow,” Moire, the owner said. “I told them they can perform on that night instead.”

The other lesbian kept telling Miss Attitude to forget about it. Yet, Miss Attitude continued trying to set up.

After failing, she finally gave up.

Fast forward to last Saturday at Sip. Previous gigs, I played eighties music at the spot. Prior to the upcoming gig, I was told a party was taking place. The host had been told I was playing eighties music.  Things seemed to be all right at first.  Then, before the gig, I received a request to play current music and to show up earlier.  I saw the red flag, a suspicion my promising night may degrade to shit.

On the night itself, the birthday host approached me…right after the person who booked me stepped out for an hour or two.

“Are you going to mix it up?” the host asked.

At this time, I was playing 80s music like our flyer promised.

:Yea, I’ll do that,” I answered.

After playing another 80s song, the host approached me again.

“Can you play current music now?” she went. “This party is for my girlfriend.”

The host was a forty-something white woman. Her girlfriend was a twenty-something, Asian-American.  The partly was mostly women who prefer women.  As long as they were having a good time, I didn’t give a shit.
Some of the older women asked for seventies and eighties music.  Even the Asian woman asked for it . Yet, the host copped an attitude.

Some male perverts may see this as a haven to watch women kiss.  When I did see kissing, I looked the other way out of respect.  Besides, gawking may have inspired the wrath of thirty angry lesbians. I can see the headlines now: Angry Lesbians Beat Down DJ. One or two did looked like they can whup my ass.  And I’m a six foot African-American at 250 pounds.

Towards the end of the night, the host placed twenty dollars in my tip jar.

When Heidi showed up, I told her about it. Heidi is the one who books me for Sip.

“Is that enough?” Heidi asked me.

“I’m cool,” I answered.  By this time, I had four or five beers in me.  At this time, a lot of things are cool.

“You sure?” Heidi asked.

“Yea, I’m cool.”

After Heidi left, a bald black woman wearing glasses walked up to me, a woman reminding me of music artist Me’ Shell Ndegeocello. I nodded towards her earlier and she smiled back.

She complemented my mix and asked did I have change for a twenty. I pulled out the five to eight ones in my tip jar.

“I’ll take that and you keep the twenty.” she said.

Of all the stereotypes about black people not tipping, “Me’ Shell” was the second highest tipper.
Around twelve, the night ended.

Me’ Shell Ndegeocello

I found out the host pissed off the bartenders.  For a hundred and twenty dollar bar tab, she tipped ten dollars.

Looking back on the two lesbian encounters, a question comes to mind.  What would have happened if I had copped an attitude?

Understand, in the first incident, someone attempted pushing me off the stage during my gig. In the second, the host was fully aware of me playing 80s music.  Not only did I come in earlier for her girlfriend’s birthday party, I even changed the music for them.  (Now, that I’m sober, I realize that twenty dollars was bullshit. Especially after what I do for them.)

If I had copped an understandable attitude, would I have been called a sexist? A homophobe? Or even a racist?  As folks chastise minorities for playing victim, I can see the women from the two separate incidents pulling the same shit. Yet, my attitude wouldn’t have anything to do with gender, race or sexual preference. No, their fuckin’ behavior would.

Nasty behavior invites negativity. In the future, folks may avoid dealing with you. Also, news of your bad behavior may travel all over town and then some.  At the moment, I know a very talented DJ who has succeeded pissing off every bar he gigged at.  At the moment, only one bar would deal with him.  And even the event’s person at that place wanted to deck him.

Yet, I did learn a few things from the party. First, I know more of the music younger women want to hear. Yep, many lesbians listen to the same Top 40 music as heterosexual women. It was the older women who were asking for “gay anthems”.  Also, if the party didn’t happen, I may not have attracted as many people on my own. At the moment, I’m thinking about ditching the 80s theme at Sip and just play the fun stuff folks want to hear.

No, I’m not picking on lesbians.  Whatever a person chooses to suck or lick is their own business. I just thought the two incidents were blog worthy.

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