Straight lesbians are a whole new demographic group of essentially straight single women who, having reached a certain age -- on the edge of demographic wasteland -- and given up on the world of men, are either permanently or temporarily dabbling elsewhere. Maybe that's not such a good phrase (oh well).
It's like they are wearing a sign that says "boy, do men suck". Except that the sign is not all that visible because I certainly didn't spot it. Maybe that's the point.
The girl in question, let's call her Laura (it's her name after all), seemed perfect on paper. I added it all up: she was attractive, lived in North London, was a fashionable media type and, importantly, seemed to want to go out with me. Like I said, perfect on paper.
I'll be honest, I think the positive paper assessment might have led to an uncharacteristic amount of excessive optimism on my part, which led me to forget top dating adviser Sun Zu's number one piece of advice about no plan surviving contact with the enemy, which loosely translates as "first dates can be very tricky".
Truthfully though, the evening wasn't so much tricky as rather gobsmacking and we foundered like some Victorian tall ship on the (vodka) rocks.
I don't know, maybe it's me. I mean, it could be because when I told a few people about the evening later their reaction was almost universally the same as Adam's.
"You went on a date with a lesbian? That's fantastic."
"Well, it think it's fair to say that she was a straight lesbian rather an 'actual' lesbian."
"But still, I'm so jealous. I'd love to date a lesbian, even one who has a tendency to being straight. It's the perfect combination."
"I'm not quite sure how you get to that conclusion."
"Dude, they're only interested in one thing."
"You know, I didn't get that impression."
"It's completely true. They are only interested in commitment-free sex."
"Yeah, Adam, but only with other women."
I digress. At the early stage, things over vodka's things were going extremely well. She'd actually bothered to read Donna Tartt's second novel rather than just buy it, as I had done. Somehow that seemed a good sign. Then, as you do, we were started talking about some of the less-than-suitable people we'd previously been out with, which is where things got a little weird as it turns out (on paper at least) they could have been some of the same people. Laura hadn't dated a guy in years.
"You mean all of your most recent relationships have been with women?"
"Yeah, you can close your mouth now, it's not exactly a fetching look."
"So, it's been a while?"
She nodded: "I just couldn't seem to meet the right man."
What a great line. I mean totally outstanding. I just wish she hadn't said it to me as I have the biggest mouth in the world and can never resist an opportunity, no matter how inappropriate, to respond to such great lines. It's been (in part at least) my downfall.
"Well, you haven't exactly been sitting around on your hands waiting around to meet Mr Right, have you?"
Did I mention that somewhere along the line I completely failed to grasp the concept of tact? It was completely true, but it went down like a mad mullah in a synagogue.
Maybe it would have been OK if I had left it there (who am I kidding?), but I'm completely hung up with numbers, not just 18-34 but page impressions and word counts, and so I couldn't really help myself pushing a little to find out exactly how long it had been since she last dated someone of the opposite sex. What can I say, it seemed important, as things do after a vodka or two.
"So how long has it been?"
"Let's just say a while."
"What's a while though?"
She was eyeing sharply by this stage. "A WHILE."
I nodded. "So why now?"
"Why not?"
"No, seriously."
"You really want to know?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Because you asked. You're shocked, aren't you? I mean, generally."
I was shaking my head, but I think I might have said yes. I'm such a fool when it comes to dating lesbians. I should have been thinking about commitment-free sex, but you know what it's like. It's really hard to focus on what's important sometimes.
We did sort of limp on for a little longer, but not much. Susan, I knew, would absolutely love this and would no doubt take it as a sign that my love life had plumbed new depths.
"Your love life has plumbed new depths," was about the first thing Susan said when I told her.
"Gee thanks, now remind me why I tell you anything?"
"Gord don't worry about it. Vaginatarians, lesbitarians or just think about all those Celesbians."
"Celesbians?"
"Think of Liz Hurley, Geri Halliwell, Drew Barrymore & Co publicity cooing about the other women they would shag if they were gay, just as they stress that they're not. Although no one's sure about Geri. It's all part of the same thing. Women in their early 30s, having given up waiting for Mr Right, are turning to each other. It's a fad though... they're really just straight girls playing at being lesbians."
"How do you work that out? You're not about to confess anything are you?"
"Dream on."
"If you insist."
"No, it's a fad because when it comes down to it, your straight lipstick lesbians would run a mile if they met a real one."
"Oh that's... so reassuring."
The Demographic Shift is a regular column on Brand Republic as Gordon MacMillan charts his own demographic timebomb.
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