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Page 31.
 One evening, we were walking hand in hand downtown, amid a heavy flow of pedestrians going and coming amid the bars, theaters, and restaurants of those several blocks. Who should be coming the opposite way, but my concurrent flame K, the gorgeous blonde who liked to rub herself, especially while watching that certain sitcom with beautiful young people of both genders.
She was with a man, a date I am sure, a @ buddy I'm not sure, and I know she saw us, but she looked the other way and passed. I generally was a one-woman guy. I couldn't handle with more than one woman the amount of passion I always invested. Also, oddly, though temporality was underwritten into all these dead-end love affairs, I wanted to remain true to the woman who was loving me. Later, when married, I never cheated. Like the vast majority of guys, the added work of having affairs has always been more than I can handle, both the work required for an average guy to chase a desirable woman, and the guilt. Oh God, the guilt. Not for me. But I never chose the timing of when these relationships started. Sometimes they overlapped. This was one such instance.
And, yes, I was jealous. Irrational to say, but I wished I had not seen K with another man. K grasped her male friend's hand, and passed with a look that is hard to forget. I saw shock in her eyes, jealousy in the half-parted mouth as she suppressed a gasp. Knowing her volatile temperament, I expected a bath of invective and a boot out of her life. I was in for a surprise.
L noticed the transaction. She felt my sudden stiffening, the tightening of my hand around hers, the exchange of looks or avoidance of looks. The other man even seemed startled. He looked like a very pleasant fellow a few years older than K. "Friend of yours?" my Belizean friend L asked.
"Someone I know."
"From how pale you suddenly look, I imagine someone you know intimately."
"It's a long story." I was suddenly worried that both women would dump me. I was very much in lust with both, and didn't relish the idea of losing either.
L didn't make more of it. She did stare over her shoulder once or twice. We went to our movie, and then sat in a bar afterward over margaritas. "Peter," L old me, "you've been looking worried. I want to assure you that I'm not upset that you bumped into an old flame or whatever."
I squirmed at the thought she might press me for information. Then I might have to reveal I was seeing them both. A violation, on the one hand. My perfect right, on the other hand, since I was not sworn to a commitment. In my confused and imperfect way, I think I had a streak of loyalty and fairness. I didn't want to hurt anyone.
"Maybe I should let you in on a secret," L said. "I don't have to, but maybe I will." She ordered us a second round of margaritas. She waited until the drinks came, and then had us move out of earshot to a private spot in a far corner. "Honey," she told me with one hand over mine, "I'm bisexual." She waited. "Are you shocked?" "Yes." I felt about an inch tall, then realized it was silly to feel that way, and popped back to my normal size.
I was still reeling—whether at her candor, or the breathtaking meaning of it, I'm not sure—when she said the next thing. "I've been having a relationship with another woman while I have been dating you." She waited for that to sink in, and sink it did. "You look a bit green," she said. "Sure you are okay? If it's something you ate, that's one thing. If it's about you're jealous or whatever, I'm like who cares, because this is who I am and it's my right to be who I am. As long as I am honest with you, as I am now, I think it's fine." She actually sounded a bit heated. "I hardly ever tell any partner that I am bi. It's none of their business, and most people can't grasp what it means. I am bi, and that stirs up animosity, whether from straights or gays, and I don't need the bullshit from either side. Okay, Peter, now you know."
"Why this moment to tell me?" I whispered when my breath came back.
"Because I got bowled over by your girlfriend. She is knock-out, drop-dead gorgeous. Not only that, but she is bi."
"I've suspected that she is bi."
"How would you know?" It was the first time L had sounded almost contemptuous to me. She was usually so even tempered. She caught herself immediately, but I wouldn't let her apologize. "No, it's okay," I said, "look, L, I love you or whatever the correct expression is to describe that I have these feelings for you, as someone I am intimate with, and I want to protect you from harm or hurt."
She put her hands over mine. "Sorry, Peter." She made a kissy mouth at me and winked both eyes shut reassuringly. "I will protect your tender little feelings too. On the one hand, baby, I have to tell you that my partner Marsha is lesbian and won't bed a man, so tough titty if you think we're going to end up in the sack all three of us. It ain't happening, poor sweet sugar cane. However, dear darling boy, that girl of yours is a walking closet case. Is she a little air headed?"'
"I don't think so. We have a very active fantasy relationship."
"I'm not good at those," L said wistfully. "I'm straightforward. Funny, Marsha is an actress and always tripping out in her fantasies, and I am the ground for her electricity. You and she would get along great if one of you had a sex change or something." We both laughed. She held my hands. "Baby, sweetheart, doll, I want to hold on to you. I hope you appreciate my secret."
I was baffled. "So, L, do bisexual people have two relationships going? I mean if you're bi, do you have to juggle two separate lives?" She grinned. "You devil, you. You're thinking, here I am struggling with two women, or however many of us you have on the hook at any moment—"
"—Usually one. I'm very monogamous," I said. "This is a unique—"
"—Okay, yeah. Unique case. No, Bobo, let me 'splain something that neither gays nor straights nor many bis understand. Remember that, though I'm a nurse, I actually majored in biology. I figured the sexuality thing out because I have the kind of personality that can step back and be neutral and figure things out. Also, I was very confused about myself and had to seek answers. Newsflash: Most people are bisexual. A small percentage are totally gay, and a small percentage are totally straight. At least 80% of the population are bisexual. One problem is that we're hung up on labels.
"First, society, driven by religious prejudices, wants to insist that everyone be heterosexual and @ only in the missionary position on certain nights when the moon is full or whatever. No fun, just mechanics, because women are evil and men are weak and we all have to be completely miserable at all times. That's just so much bullshit. That's asshole theology, but that's the groove where most people are stuck.
"Second, the majority of people are bisexual, but each person is a unique case. Statistically, I suspect while most people are bisexual, the skew is toward hetero, since that is biologically and evolutionarily what keeps the race going. Still, most people have some mix of hetero and same sex genes. If you're 90/10 or 80/20 or even 70/30, chances are you'll live most of your life in denial and will never stray across that gender boundary. But if you're 60/40 or 50/50, you're in my realm. Since society is so full of lies and bullshit and stupidity, you have to figure it out for yourself as I did."
I told L about J's television watching and diddling. L said: "Your gorgeous friend may eventually admit she is attracted to women as well as men, or not. I'd like to get her in the sack myself. I wonder if she would let me, and if you could be there and share in the passion."
I was too stunned to say anything. I was still naïve in some ways, and part of my universe was crumbling around my ears. I was, however, a logical sort, and would usually come around to the common sense of reality, as opposed to the wishful thinking of zealots who refuse to accept reality.
L said: "I don't know if you'll understand that, but for God's sake, please listen. When rightwing zealots claim to have changed gays to straights, they are I their own ignorance dealing with confused bisexuals. That is the tragedy of my kind. I know who I am and what I need. Most people aren't critical thinkers and cannot reason this kind of thing out for themselves, so they become victims of these cult leaders. Because we are such a pathologically rightwing society, those cult leaders are able to twist a lot of people to their agendas. That's all beyond the scope of you and me. What I want you to understand, Peter, is that every bi is different. Some have long-term relationships, and stay with a man or woman for life, or for years before flipping into another relationship. It's not the gender, but the loyalty, the fact of remaining true to one person. In the whole spectrum of things, yes there are opportunistic bis who play both sides of the fence. Most people are like you or me, Peter, and try to be kind and fair. I just want you to understand that being bisexual doesn't mean you necessarily have both a male and female partner, although when it happens it happens. At the moment, it seems to be happening for me. In my case, I am not in love with anyone right now. I am very fond of you, but you aren't in love with me, and I'm not in love with you. To be in love is to have a committed relationship, and neither of us has that. You certainly aren't ready for that, but you will be one day. I was seeing a woman who deeply turns me on, and I shared with her something I could never share with you. We've cooled off quite a bit, and I don't know where or if it's going. She doesn't know about you—that's how I prefer to play the game. I call it a 'need to know' basis. I have to always go back to who I am and what my needs are, and at the same time what's fair for my male and/or female lover." She shrugged. "That's the whole story."
"Is your female lover beautiful?" I asked.
She laughed. "You're not going to bed with her. She is a committed Lesbian."
"I didn't mean that. I many never get to talk like this with another bisexual, and I'm just curious, especially because I'm trying to figure out what is what with K."
"She'll never get past looking. She's a 20 maybe—just barely aware she is interested in women, but not enough to act it out. She'll go through life wondering why she gets a little hot when just the right gorgeous woman walks past her in the street, or flirts with her. She'll do that thing you said, rubbing herself, and some of the pictures in her head will be of a woman on the street who looked at her a certain way, or a woman on a passing bus who noticed K and turned her head to stare after her, or a totally straight woman who finds K looking at her kind of hard and blushes and looks away. K will have all those things, but never go past them." After some telephone games (she made it clear she was hurt or miffed or something about having seen me with L, though she herself was with another man), K invited me over a few evenings later. I had called her to initiate it, and she made it a little rough, but then she caved and told me to come over right away. She was waiting for me, kissing me as soon as I came in the doorway. She was exceptionally passionate and had both arms over my shoulders while Frenching me, then got her hand down my pants and led me to the bedroom, where she made love hot and heavy. As we lay together, she said: "I was afraid you had moved on."
"I am not moving on. I just happened to meet this woman. I'm still hot on our fantasy games."
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