FIVE; DRAGLINES, THREE DATES AND THE FERRY BUILDING

“Are you dating ?’

Everyone would ask

‘Dating ? 

‘British lesbians don’t date. '

‘The British don’t date.‘

‘What do you mean they don’t date?’

 ‘What do they do ?’

‘They kind of get drunk, fall on each other, go home together and well thats it’ 

‘Whaaaat ?’

‘I know, I know it doesn’t sound that sophisticated but thats the point 

We aren’t

And I dont drink 

so really … the only dating that happens for me is in the the novels 

You know the bad ones I mentioned

With the sheriff and the secret agent head of security for the presidents daughter .. no ?’

Well it was getting late in my day… I wanted it all… love, romance, a family. I had spent the last 14 years knee deep in my work which I adored but now I wanted something different something for me. 

I decided “When in America” and all that and joined an early days on line dating app and pressed on area of choice San Francisco. In the Uk I would have been cringing and worried that the whole spiders web of tangled,  incestous knotted lesbians and exes that could be on there weaving stories and madness but here I was the new girl in a new town with no history and not a spiders thread in sight.

At lunch with Mary Corrigan divine friends, who were all settled, seasoned couples living in the city I told the tale of the three butch girl dates I had arranged and they looked at the pictures, pulled suitable faces, found the whole thing hysterical and intriguing and asked for frequent updates… on the way home in the car Mary exclaimed, the now well used phrase

“Baby, you are catnip for the universe”  —Mary Corrigan

We all laughed out loud, but secretly I was petrified, anxious and pulling up a kind of inner reserve of confidence that’s was very low in supply for occasions like this .

Three, three magic dates were arranged and cast in the shadow of the big iconic ferry building during the last week of my stay. I’m not sure if its a stretch to say it was cinderella like … but there were definitely three, three magical dresses, three pair of high heel shoes and a suitably placed clock striking romantically.

Those heels now lie in the back of the wardrobe or did I finally part with them a few years back ? Well in my mind they are at the back of our wardrobe, existing in a parallel universe or waiting for the possibility that is now looking almost zero of a personal renaissance one day! 

The dresses …were tiny. Once when I was sorting through the wardrobe Sandra looked at them and was bemused … “thats a dress ? That you wore ? …Jesus honey, who were you ?”  I have been thinking that a lot lately since beginning to write these memories . Who was I? This version of me that arranged three dates in a week across the other side of the world and wore heels I couldn’t now even get my feet into now.  I think I cut one of the dresses up and made a collage out of it that sold at an exhibition. But maybe, just maybe, there is still one hanging out with the shoes in the shimmering dusty lost dreams at the back of the Narnia wardrobe.

Date number one looked gorgeous, in a sheriff novel kinda way, but also maybe scary on reflection. The kind of profile picture that I would now shudder at if a young person showed me and think don’t go there with that person looks a whole lot of trouble.

Thank god she stood me up.

I waited shivering outside the ferry building restaurant, then leaning nonchalantly on the railings by the water trying to pretend I was just on an …evening walk watching the world go by. I held on to steady to the railing and myself because standing still in the heels on a cobble like floor for more than 15 mins was a big challenge.

Eventually I walked quickly home. In truth I was so anxious before the date that I wasn’t really disappointed, more like relived to arrive back into the comfort of the Vitale, see Charles smiling face, get into my pyjamas, ring room service and watch a movie. The restaurant made me my favourite sage and butter ravioli just the way I liked it. I concluded it was the perfect date with myself, although it wasn’t the best of starts to my dating adventure.It was decidedly rude and could pose a seriously diplomatic fracture to international relations.  About 11pm I got a ping from the dating site - the dodgy rude sheriff apologised ‘something else came up hon and I hoped you enjoyed myself anyway? Wanna try for another night ? I laughed at the cheek of it, thought wtf and promptly blocked the profile.

I messaged date number two in the afternoon of the next day. ‘Look, Are we still ok for tonight only I have already been stood up once and i’m happy to stay in my pyjamas rather than risk the cold long wait again.’ She said “ma’am of course I will be there and may I on behalf of all the Americans out there apologise for my fellow citizens behaviour. Obama would be horrified, allow me to rectify this mistake”

I stood in the gorgeous bookshop called Book Passage. I tried to breathe deeply to calm my nerves. I Pretended to be looking for a book, which in truth I usually am and tried to find reassuring lines in the pages of poetry.  She arrived on a motorbike as the sun was setting which was a good exciting start to this chapter. I was kind of too tall for her in the 6 inch heels but she didn’t seem to mind. She was very very quiet … I asked questions but she replied in one word answers and the only thing I remember her saying was ‘I love your accent’ .. so with my nerves in absolute overdrive I decided to just talk incessantly in my best Liverpool accent all night to avoid any silences or awkwardness. I went into entertainment mode like I have to talk my way through. She looked in shock, kind of steamrollered with my stories and I truth probably was struggling to understand my accent. I think I had one drink to help me cope. Those who know me will know I only have to have one sip of a cocktail and I start falling about saying ‘I love you’ and ‘isn’t life fabulous’ to everyone like Mary Poppins on drugs. 

It was kind of a success … I talked to her as she gazed back at me, till about 11 and then I thought “Oh God … what am I even going on about’ ….it was time to go, from this one way conversation .and the ferry building bell was tolling.  It had been the longest performance and the audience looked like it was time to pull the curtain down. 

Charles raised his eyebrows in the lobby

‘Everything ok ma’am? Good night ?” …

“oh i’m not sure Charles”

and then suddenly felt totally self conscious, feared he thought I was running an escort agency or worse a brothel from the hotel. I said quickly

“just meeting agents about my book …you know ,like you do”

and then ran to my room thinking that had sounded completely naff and he wasn’t fooled! 

So date number two messaged me late on to say she was sorry she had been quiet but I had more than made up for that and she hoped we could maybe meet again. Mary Corrigan in our debrief on the phone suggested I invite her to our new years day with Nancy at her beach house in Half Moon Bay and they could check her out and see if she was anymore relaxed in other company. So I messaged back and invited her to come, she said she would be too shy to come along when she didn’t know anyone. When I got back to the hotel that night after the most perfect day at the beach with Mary and the gang there was a message at reception, left early that morning to ask for the address to the beach house, as she had built up the courage and decided to come along … ah it was far too late for that now and we will never know. But I do know I was quite exhausted from all the talking!

Date number three took place on my last full day before my flight home. Kelly (sorry, I can only remember one of the dates names - peri menopause has stolen my memory)  Kelly turned up which was a good start. She came to the hotel lobby so I wouldn’t have to lurk suspiciously around the ferry building anymore, although by this time I was raising eyebrows between the staff on the reception desk …

‘there is a … friend ? waiting in reception for you ma’am shall I let them up to your room’  

‘god, no! I will be down in a moment… thank you’

Kelly was chattier than me, funny, kind and charming. She had done something at uni around accents and language so we laughed about the different funny things brits said. Conversation flowed easily. She took me to all her favourite places to eat, we walked around the city .. the sun was shining dreamily. We shared how we both loved the sea and wanted to live by it one day. I told her how my friend from Esalen, Richard was maybe opening a therapy centre in Bodega Bay and had asked me would I be interested in being the creative therapist there. I had never even visited the place, so Kelly offered to drive me there that afternoon along the coast and we could check it out. I am now thinking ‘you had only just met her, what were you thinking getting in her car” but oh the innocence of youth and at that time it felt completely safe and the perfect thing to do. To my nieces and nephews reading this - don’t get in the car and leave your phone switched on and let me meet them first

It was a truly gorgeous long day… I wasn’t sure about Bodega Bay, it was rainy, misty and more marshy than beach, but we took photos by the water and laughed a lot. She was actually a real life stand up comedian and well I suppose you could say I like to think I am! She said the whole experience was giving her the new material she needed maybe for a whole new piece on dating brits who don’t date. She was generous and had made me laugh so it all seemed a fair exchange. We came back late to the Vitale and drank tea on the roof overlooking the city lights and the bridge… we lamented that it was sad that I was leaving the next day but that sometimes like with a poem all you get is a great title and that has to be enough …..

Ferry building San Francisco

Somewhere in the shadows of this funny joyful story was a Black Widow Spider who hadn’t entered the stage yet but was waiting in the wings. 

But this is not that story.  This is a poem.

This is a magical happy story before that time … 

Of a no date, a date and a great date and of a brit who dated just for a week…

American style. 

NOTES :

A poem for Kelly from the book ‘Love , Hope and High Heels” We stayed in touch and she has been a lovely friend over the years.

Last Night at the Hotel Vitale

You were not stone and I was cold sober

still it was a hot San Francisco eve

taking risks
warm hands and thighs

on a late-night rooftop
drinking tea the Irish way
and letting ourselves believe
if we left our shoes on
we would be safe
and all the while my wired heart
knowing we were both doomed
in the most beautiful sense.
It was a walk on a cliff edge
with a gorgeous stranger
it was like holding your nose
and laughing out loud
like diving into the rip tides
and not coming up to catch breath.
We were a long drive home in the dark
we were saying goodbye

just as we said hello

your feet an empty echo in the corridor
the sad sound of the lift appearing
me moaning into the pillow
lying in the dark shaking
my legs forgetting how to move
my brain mixed and stirred
like a late-night Black Russian.

When you called me the next day before I left for the airport
I lay back down on the bed breathed deep

kicked off my shoes
and felt it all over again.
It was a champagne hangover

without the champagne.
You said
sometimes in life
all you get is a title
and that has to be enough
till you find the poem to follow and you were a great title
and you were more than enough.

*Dragline: Pronunciation /ˈdraɡlʌɪn/ NOUN. A line of silk produced by a spider and acting as a safety line or (in newly hatched spiders) a parachute.

* Black widows are notorious spiders identified by the colored, hourglass-shaped mark on their abdomens. Several species answer to the name, and they are found in temperate regions around the world. Venom. This spider's bite is much feared because its venom is reported to be 15 times stronger than a rattlesnake's.