Lez get real on this rainy Thursday afternoon.
Whether we want to believe it or not, we spend an incredible amount of time of our bleak little lives in the workplace, don't we? Especially the wildly ambitious power babes who trying to make our mark in this cruel world. It's rough waters out there for women in business, gay or straight, bi or pans.
And while I love working as much as the next employed lesbian who is fiercely passionate about her career, I never seem to land jobs with my own kind. In fact, I didn't get a lot of lesbian genetics.
I'm terrible with numbers, so I couldn't be a Wall Street maven like so many of my kind. I'm too soft to be a lesbian power lawyer (shh, don't tell anyone, I'm low-key soft). And I would make a terrible cop because I have too much of a liberal bleeding heart.
I always worked in gay boy/straight girl fields, like fashion, beauty, theater and makeup. (I'm aware of my sweeping generalizations, and you have every right to hate me. I'm just too fed up with this day to be politically correct, kittens.)
And it's great, if you want the truth. I have enough run-ins with exes, old hookups and bad Tinder dates in my own free time, so I don't need the smallness of the gay underworld to penetrate my work life. All it would take would be ONE other Manhattan lesbian to join the team and a BAM CRASH BOOM between us, and we'd have three exes in common and know way too much about one another.
On the other hand, being the only lesbian at work comes with its own set of very unique problems. And I'm not talking about just the fight between who gets to leave work early to catch the ferry to Fire Island on Friday. I'm talking about far more awkward situations:
1. Everyone comes to you when they're having a sexual identity crisis.
Marcy from HR calls you into her office, and suddenly you're full of fear.
"What the hell did I screw up?" you ask yourself as you do the walk of shame into her cubicle. A sea of concerned eyes watch you as you slowly make your way toward your doom.
Except Marcy from HR isn't upset with you. Marcy from HR met a girl at her cousin's wedding, and after three shots of tequila, they ended up wildly making out and now she's not sure if she's gay, straight, bisexual and agh, how is she going to tell her boyfriend?
2. Happy hour turns into "lesbian sex education."
Everyone is curious about how lesbians have sex, but NO ONE, dear, no one would ever be tempted to ask about such thing in the workplace, now would they, baby? Never.
Until one night, and a few too many drinks are consumed at happy hour. The next thing you know, you're being flooded with curious questions about how you and your girlfriend have sex. Jessie the intern wants to know, "like, how can you even be satisfied without a dick?"
3. You try not to make eye contact when you see your "straight" co-worker getting down at the gay club.
Little do they know you're 100 percent a follower of gay code, which means the following: What happens in the gay bar, stays in the gay bar. You don't need to kiss our asses during the eight-hour workday as you pray we don't reveal your secret (though we wholly enjoy the perks of your fear).
Your secret is in our safe lesbian hands. We'll never tell. Though, you did look really cute making out all over the dance floor with that pretty little dyke with the Justin Bieber haircut.
4. You're not quite sure how to handle it when the big conservative boss from corporate asks you about your "boyfriend."
I mean, you radiate lesbian energy, but maybe you could just, like, pretend to be straight and go on that date with his nephew he keeps suggesting.
5. You become a spokesmodel for lesbianism.
"Hey, what does the Q in LGBTQ stand for?" you get pulled aside and asked about 5,000 times per day.
That's OK. You're starting to get used to your new role as the shining, gorgeous LESBIAN SPOKESMODEL. Sometimes you're even tempted to give them the wrong information, just to see how far you can get.
Actually, the "Q" stands for "quaint," a subcultural term for small gay boy. It's totally politically correct. Tell all your friends.
6. Nobody understands HOW INTENSE AND SOUL-DESTROYING OUR LOVE IS.
Nobody can understand why you're so direly depressed and screwed up after breaking up with your girlfriend whom you've only been dating for three weeks.
That's because straight people will never, ever, ever, EVER understand the epic intensity of our love lives. They don't understand that three weeks is equal to three years in lesbian time. It's like dog years.
You've already moved in together, adopted a cat (that you're now battling for custody over), had enough mind-blowing sexual interactions to last a lifetime and met each other's families. It's practically a divorce.
7. You can't tell if the cute girl who sits two desks away is checking you out or not.
Oh yes, she's definitely bi-curious and definitely checking you out. And after your really rowdy holiday party, you're somehow in a taxi with her, locking lips. I mean, you're in a vulnerable place after your breakup.
8. Overnight, you're an office urban legend.
It was the bi-curious girl who got you drunk and insisted you go home with her who started those pesky rumors. She's told the whole office you seduced her. Now the straight boys want to be you, and the straight girls can't tell if they want to fuck you or are afraid of you.
This is when your reputation as the office lesbian predator gets started. You become a legend to the workplace overnight.
9. You experience a moment of acute joy when a lesbian joins your team.
You don't even have to discuss it with her, ever. But you'll exchange a wink as you cross her when going to use the fax machine in the back. Maybe it's just a stoic nod, if she's on the tight-lipped side.
But you felt the static energy in the office shift the moment she entered the building. Your lesbian alarms went off. You knew a gay was in the area before human resources knew she was even hired.
Suddenly, you have someone who will get your "L Word" references, understand that it's NOT weird you're dating your ex's ex (hey, our world is small) and will help you answer questions like, "Who holds the door open for whom?" to the curious office sorority girls.