found I didn't like them. I had horrible gaydar; I still do, actually. So dating was a frustrating experience for me."
"And now?"
"It's still a frustrating experience."
"Picky?"
"Yes. But not the way you might think. I appreciate a woman who looks nice. I think you're totally hot." She glanced at me as if she were judging my reaction. "Does it bother you that I said that?"
I laughed. "No. It's flattering. Thank you."
"But what's important to me is that she has a brain and she is kind. I can find women who are hot. I can find women with brains. And I can find women who are kind. But trying to get two out of three can be difficult unless I really compromise on the third. Is that shallow?"
"It depends on whether being totally hot is the most important part," I told her. " That would be shallow. You know you are basically describing yourself, though."
She looked over at me. " Do you mean that?"
"Sure. You have an amazing body."
"I work hard for it."
"It shows. And you're brilliant at work. And from what I've seen, you're kind. That girl dumped you on the phone today right before you were going to pick her up for a weekend you'd put real effort into, and you weren't a bitch to her. I might have been."
"Thank you." She was quiet for a wh ile. "She also needs to be open-minded and a little adventurous. Not reckless, but someone who, for instance, would go hiking in the woods with me."
"So if I were gay, I'd be your dream girl?" I bit my lower lip and dipped my chin so I was looking through my eyelashes at her.
Jessica laughed. "Probably. Depends upon whether you enjoyed what I would want to do to you in bed."
I laughed nervously. "Would I?"
"If you were gay you might." She smiled. "Heck, even if you weren't gay, you might enjoy it."
Curiosity set in. I wondered what two women did together. "Are you going to tell me more than that?"
She thought about it. "No. It would give me too many ideas, and then I'll spend the entire weekend thinking about what could be rather than enjoying what is."
With my curiosity unsated, I was disappointed, but I wasn't going to pry. "Well then," I said, picking up my diet soda. "Here's to what is."
We clinked soda cans and drank.
"What about you?" Jessica asked. "What's your story, Jade? I've been trying to guess your ethnic background, but I've been failing."
" I'm a mix," I admitted. "My maternal grandmother was from India. I also have some Filipino in me and even a little Italian. I look more like my grandmother than anyone else." I tugged on my straight black hair.
" I love your mocha complexion, and you display a striking mix," Jessica said with an appreciative tone. "And the rest of your story?"
"Well, I was born 29 years ago in a small town in Iowa ," I said. "My parents believe I am saving myself for marriage and are deeply worried about the corrupting influence of the big city."
She laughed. "Do they have cause to worry?"
"Some," I told her. "But I'm not stupid and rarely make stupid, dangerous mistakes."
"So your dating life?"
"I have one. It's okay." I paused. "I like doing outdoorsy stuff, but I haven't found a guy who doesn't get competitive about it. Or at least they're always either not interested at all or else so much better, bigger and faster than I am, that I feel going with me is settling. I've never had a guy offer to go for a hike instead of a run, and with this tiny stature and short legs, I can't keep up with any guys who want to go running. I either end up running alone or else feel guilty I am holding him back. You get what I mean?"
"I think so. " She glanced over at me. "I like your stature."
I laughed. "This is so funny, but you're more of a gentleman to me than the guys I've dated."
She smiled at me. "Why is it funny?"
I thought about it. "You know? I don't know. I guess because you're not a gentleman." I stressed the last syllable.
"Do you like the way I treat you?"
"Yes, I do. It's weird having a woman hold a car door for me, but I like
"And now?"
"It's still a frustrating experience."
"Picky?"
"Yes. But not the way you might think. I appreciate a woman who looks nice. I think you're totally hot." She glanced at me as if she were judging my reaction. "Does it bother you that I said that?"
I laughed. "No. It's flattering. Thank you."
"But what's important to me is that she has a brain and she is kind. I can find women who are hot. I can find women with brains. And I can find women who are kind. But trying to get two out of three can be difficult unless I really compromise on the third. Is that shallow?"
"It depends on whether being totally hot is the most important part," I told her. " That would be shallow. You know you are basically describing yourself, though."
She looked over at me. " Do you mean that?"
"Sure. You have an amazing body."
"I work hard for it."
"It shows. And you're brilliant at work. And from what I've seen, you're kind. That girl dumped you on the phone today right before you were going to pick her up for a weekend you'd put real effort into, and you weren't a bitch to her. I might have been."
"Thank you." She was quiet for a wh ile. "She also needs to be open-minded and a little adventurous. Not reckless, but someone who, for instance, would go hiking in the woods with me."
"So if I were gay, I'd be your dream girl?" I bit my lower lip and dipped my chin so I was looking through my eyelashes at her.
Jessica laughed. "Probably. Depends upon whether you enjoyed what I would want to do to you in bed."
I laughed nervously. "Would I?"
"If you were gay you might." She smiled. "Heck, even if you weren't gay, you might enjoy it."
Curiosity set in. I wondered what two women did together. "Are you going to tell me more than that?"
She thought about it. "No. It would give me too many ideas, and then I'll spend the entire weekend thinking about what could be rather than enjoying what is."
With my curiosity unsated, I was disappointed, but I wasn't going to pry. "Well then," I said, picking up my diet soda. "Here's to what is."
We clinked soda cans and drank.
"What about you?" Jessica asked. "What's your story, Jade? I've been trying to guess your ethnic background, but I've been failing."
" I'm a mix," I admitted. "My maternal grandmother was from India. I also have some Filipino in me and even a little Italian. I look more like my grandmother than anyone else." I tugged on my straight black hair.
" I love your mocha complexion, and you display a striking mix," Jessica said with an appreciative tone. "And the rest of your story?"
"Well, I was born 29 years ago in a small town in Iowa ," I said. "My parents believe I am saving myself for marriage and are deeply worried about the corrupting influence of the big city."
She laughed. "Do they have cause to worry?"
"Some," I told her. "But I'm not stupid and rarely make stupid, dangerous mistakes."
"So your dating life?"
"I have one. It's okay." I paused. "I like doing outdoorsy stuff, but I haven't found a guy who doesn't get competitive about it. Or at least they're always either not interested at all or else so much better, bigger and faster than I am, that I feel going with me is settling. I've never had a guy offer to go for a hike instead of a run, and with this tiny stature and short legs, I can't keep up with any guys who want to go running. I either end up running alone or else feel guilty I am holding him back. You get what I mean?"
"I think so. " She glanced over at me. "I like your stature."
I laughed. "This is so funny, but you're more of a gentleman to me than the guys I've dated."
She smiled at me. "Why is it funny?"
I thought about it. "You know? I don't know. I guess because you're not a gentleman." I stressed the last syllable.
"Do you like the way I treat you?"
"Yes, I do. It's weird having a woman hold a car door for me, but I like
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