The dark-haired one gets
right down to business — the business of popping Renessa’s bi-curious cherry.
"What’s your type?" she asks. "Masculine? Feminine?" How
about loony bin? There’s good pickings there. The trainer from Whoville has no
idea what she wants in a woman.
One of the other Olivians
muses that Renessa’s girl quest is like a hazing initiation. Yes it is. For Kappa Kappa Eat My Pie.
Olivian: Were you guys in a sorority?
Rebecca: No. Uh uh. Sorority girls
never liked me.
Rebecca: No. I don’t know. I was
like, "Why don’t you like me?" And I didn’t know why. Maybe it was
just as well. Maybe that was just my own insecurity because I’m insecure.
Jackie: And sensitive …
If vacuous sorority sheep
don’t like you, Rebecca, it’s a compliment. Better yet, if they don’t even understand you, that’s the highest
praise in all the land.
Rebecca admits to the
table of strangers that she’s insecure and overly sensitive. And then adds, "It
takes one to know one," as she looks right at Jackie.
Insecure and overly
sensitive Jackie clenches her jaw and tells Rebecca not to start with her
passive-aggressive bull crap. The dark-haired woman and her friends know good lesbian
drama when they smell it and ask if Jackie and Rebecca used to date.
And for the first time
ever, Jackie and Rebecca are simultaneously speechless.
Rebecca is mute because
she doesn’t know how to describe what she and Jackie had without sounding
bitter. Jackie is speechless because by virtue of them asking, she realizes they
haven’t seen her show. Someone buy those ladies a round.
Luck be a lady — Leaving yet another group of bewildered women bobbing
in their wake, the girls saunter over to the casino. One unlucky lesbian gets
trapped between Jackie and Rebecca at a blackjack table.
Rebecca says: "You
guys kinda look alike. You could be sisters."
Jackie seems highly
insulted and calls Rebecca "an ass," until she sees Rebecca looking
up at her with her big, brown, puppy eyes, and she melts a little. Jackie leans
over and apologizes while Rebecca clings to her like a newborn chimp.
There is simply no
defense for big, pleading eyes looking up at you, and femmes — straight and gay
alike — know it. And that is how I ended up with a credit card statement
resembling the national debt of Indonesia.