Ghost stories in the wild

Last night, after a wonderful dinner at Local, Tim and I went to a lesbian bar. Now, lesbos, we need to talk. Why is it that I've never even *seen* a gezellig (cool, comfortable, atmospheric) gay girl bar? I've played wingman for Tim for months, been to several gay bars and almost every time I'm impressed by the package. Gay guy bars have an atmosphere stereotype, and generally live up to expectations. But nearly every lesbian bar I've ever been to is ugly. And so are the women inside.

What is it about the genetic underpinnings of lesbianism that makes gay girls immune to the standard vectors of attraction? Why is the lesbian costume so masculine? Isn't the whole point about being a gay girl that you're attracted to girls? Or is lesbianism not really a change in the avenue of attraction, but rather a flaw in the way you attract? Could lesbianism simply be a result of switched-off desire to produce fitness indicators?

Anyway. We left before we could even finish out tiny beers, and I convinced Tim to ride our bikes down the Amstel river at midnight, looking for a bar outside of the city. We biked for about 15 minutes, and found that the bar I had recalled was actually closed at 11pm, so we continued biking. We took random turns and ended up in the middle of empty farmland, surrounded by sheep and crickets. We told ghost stories and I wished that more of my friends were there ... but it's really hard to mobilize a group. Convincing Tim was hard, convincing Matt, Jim, Jordan to go along too would be impossible on a random night. You have to sway half of a the group in order for a whole group to go along with an idea, and Jim and Jordan wouldn't even leave Boom for dinner (or drinks) last night.

Now that Tim has gone on the ride (and has seen how amazing it is that 15 minutes outside of Amsterdam you're suddenly in Wisconsin), maybe it'll be easier to get a bunch of people to take the trip.