the fabulous life of a queer femme in action
I always thought there was something wrong with me. That I didn’t love enough. Care enough. Show enough interest. Books, music, magazines, films. There’s this whole fucking industry built around it, with custom-made travel ideas, gifts, packages. I’m talking romance here … Things that make me extremly nervous
- Candlelight dinners. Just make me feel like a fake and make me wanna get drunk.
- Holding hands while walking through the park. Just for the sake of „holding hands while walking through the park“. If I’m gonna do this I want to have a purpose, like walking the dog, or a goal (aka a beer afterwards). Holding hands while walking is actually not that comfortable, either.
- Taking a bath together. In a tiny bathtub. I’m a big lady. I need space. And when I take a bath I want to read or do a Sudoku, not have toes in my face or scrub somebody’s back. (That is just icky!) Here we can also add „sex in the shower“. I mean, who actually likes that?? It is slippery and dangerous, you have to stand up = uncomfortable, and it’s almost impossible to have an orgasm. And there is always someone getting cold because they are too far away from the water stream.
- Since we are on the subject of sex: All things staged as „romantic sex“; eating stuff (cream, chocolate sauce, honey etc.) off of each other’s bodies; feeding each other (for example strawberries); rose petals on the bed; sensual massages. NonononoNO!
- read, sing, play an instrument to your partner in a seductive man- ner. Don’t ever do that. My absolute nightmare would be to go away on a „romantic week- end“ to the country side (read „Therme“ if you are in Austria), where there is nothing else to do, where you are supposed to do all those things. You wanna woo me? Then I would suggest: pizza, couch, laughing your ass off to „Cybill for the 50th time with me“, let me smoke in the living room. And then: sex on the bed. Where it’s comfortable and clean. That, my friends, is romance.
Denice’s idea of the ultimate romantic gesture: Her partner providing coffee, a greasy English breakfast and painkillers on Sunday noon.
