What’s on your bucket-list? Let me guess… Go bungee jumping? Learn to surf? Climb an active volcano? Travel around the world? Start your own political party? Thought so.
I’ve never actually put together a bucket list, yet have a couple of things in the back of my mind, which I have always wanted to do. Anyone who knows me will testify to me being a little too adventurous for my own good at times. I will be that friend who constantly tells you ‘go for it’. Occasionally, this gets me into tricky situations, but at least I always have a good story to tell. And here is one of them:
Thursday night I came home from an average date, tired and hungry. I opened the front door to my flat, ready to rummage the fridge in search for yummy things, to find a girl camped out in my living room. I immediately recognised her as the girl who used to live in my room before I moved in.
She had come to Madrid over the weekend to celebrate her birthday. As my flatmate is a good friend of hers, she would be spending the nights on our sofa. Fine by me.
We chatted a bit about my date, as I stuffed my face with anything and everything, and she told me about her ex girlfriends. We ended up swiping through her lesbian tinder. Convinced that all men in Madrid are creeps, I was curious to see what the girls are up to. There were butch girls, bull-ring nose piercing girls, girly girls, gorgeous girls and geeky girls. So much variety compared to the photo-with-a-tiger-males on my tinder.
The ex-roomie finally, half jokingly told me I should probably just try it with girls. I laughed and went to bed.
Usually out and about, I came home late that Friday night. This time I found a party in my living room (I never know what I will come home to. Once, I swear I came home to the start of an orgy, but thats a different story.)
Ex-roomie was celebrating her birthday and had invited a few friends. The stereo was blasting and everyone was well drunk by the time I came home. I was tired and wanted to sleep, but if you can’t beat them, join them. Ex-roomie fixed me a drink and I downed it.
She chatted away, being a little cheeky and a little too interested. “I should probably just be direct with you at this point. Do you realise that I’m flirting with you?” She was definitely being direct and the truth is that I had noticed. I was actually kind of flattered by it. Who said it’s hard to pick up girls? Suck it, guys! I’m fabulous!
Being with a girl has been on said non-bucket-list, but has also not often crossed my mind. Just like touching the freshly painted fence, you kind of want to do it, just to see if it’s really wet paint, but you also kind of don’t because wet paint on your hands isn’t how you roll.
Let’s skip to 4am. It’s ex-roomie and me in the kitchen, alone, talking. We’re both more drunk than we realise and she tries hard to convince me to give it a go. “Are you not curious to find out?”
Am I? I’m not sure. Part of me is, the other is screaming wet paint. Yet, I had nothing to lose. My dating history with men hasn’t exactly been the stuff of fairy-tales (you can read about it here, here, here and worst of all here)
This is where the ‘go for it’ kicked in. I went for it.
After we got over the girly giggling stage, it was actually kind of hot. And that’s all I should probably say about it.
Lady on lady action. Check.