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Control Tower

by Mistress Matisse

"We don't know how to pick up women," two bi friends of mine lamented to me recently. I've heard this before, especially from bi girls who haven't hung out at dyke bars much. This is what it means: We're scared to try. It's not surprising. Kittens learn to hunt by watching mama cats, and if you don't spend time in places where women do the hunting, you don't unlearn your nervousness about it.

I acquired my pickup skills in another school of female erotic instigation: strip bars. I spent years working in clubs where I had to hustle private dances, and how you do that is this: You walk up to a strange man and say, "Hey, don't you want to give me 20 dollars to wiggle my ass in your face for three minutes?" (You don't phrase it quite that way, naturally.) The guys answer yes often enough to keep you in platform heels, but they sometimes say no, too. If one declines, you simply go ask the next guy, and then the next guy, and the next--dozens of guys each night.

With that as my boot camp, I'm a fearless Jedi Knight when it comes to pickups. It's not complicated: First, the eye contact across the room, then the smile, begin moving in closer, more eye contact/smiling, and then right up to the front door: "Hi, my name's Matisse. What's your name?" Of course, when I suggested to my friends that they just plunge in and try it, they responded like I'd proposed they eat some locally processed hamburger.

Now, I usually say that only the brave deserve the fair. But in a weak moment, I threw up my hands and said to my two bi friends, "Fine. I'll throw a party. I'll invite only attractive, single bi and lesbian women. And with that kind of setup, if you don't at least get a phone number, then I don't want to hear any more fussing about it."

I admit to having a few "what was I thinking?" moments since making this impulsive offer. So while I do have a healthy address book, to improve the odds even more, I'm going to open it up. If you're a single, attractive bi or lesbian woman who'd like to be hit on by cute, nervous bi women, drop me an e-mail, with a picture, and we'll see about getting you on the guest list. These kittens need to learn to hunt for themselves, so they'll quit yowling at me.

matisse@thestranger.com