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Intimacy Not Bargained For
Pat and I order at the Indian restaurant in the Clubhouse and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom -- the same one, where I met the woman, likewise trying on items last Sunday. I push open the carved, dark, wooden door and witness the most exciting scene since my arrival in India:
A gorgeous woman is squeezing the white, capri-clothed thighs of another, who's sitting on the sink, legs dangling. The squeezer whips her head around and looks at me with deep embarrassment. I try to pretend I'm invisible as I slink into one of the individual rooms with a toilet.
I close the door, daring one more quick peek and then my antennae droop: It's a mother, comforting her teenage daughter, and trying to help her pull herself together in a British-from-Britain accent. And she looks at me with horror because she doesn't want any of the clubhouse members to see any of her family losing control of her emotions. Ugh.
I'm so gross. How could I have thought that they were a couple? No, I'm just so hungry for lesbian imagery. In the States, we can watch TV and see ourselves portrayed, and we can get together with any of several couples of lesbian friends and just be nearly ordinary. Here, I feel so rare. I do need to call the lesbian and trans couple who my friend connected me with when I was here on my own in 2005.
As I exit the toilet and head toward the sink, there's no avoiding the mother-daughter unit; the daughter shifts just slightly to the left to make room for me to wash my hands. She's sniffling and I go ahead and look right at her while applying liquid soap.
"A few weeks ago, at the Windsor, I was eating breakfast with tears streaming down my face," I say to her watery blue eyes. "I just couldn't cope anymore."
She looks at me with surprise and then a touch of gratitude. Her extra-gorgeous mother looks at me with pure gratitude for distracting her kid.
"Yeah, the croissant-server knew to stay away from me. I scared her."
The girl laughs through her tears.
"I hope you feel better," I say, tossing my paper towel into the bin. Her mother rewards me with a huge smile.