About A Stud

A few days ago, I posted a link on our Facebook Page that was an article from the Dallas Voice.  It was about the various labels that "butch" lesbians give themselves to describe who they are.  After reading it, it reminded me of an experience that I had when I was 36.  It happened when I went to the Social Security Office in Dallas and while in the waiting room, some girls struck up a conversation with me and that was the first time that I was first called a "stud".  I had no idea what that meant, maybe because of my age.  I think it were the younger lesbians that were using that label.  So anyway, I thought I'd share my story here.  I'd love to have any feedback in the comments section.

THE WAITING ROOM

"Pssst! Psst!" I look over to my left and see if the oh-so-subtle distraction is for me. It sure is. She brings her left hand to the side of her mouth, I guess so nobody else can overhear us, then she whispers something that I can't hear.

"What?"

"Are you a..."

"What?" I seriously couldn't hear her.

"Are you.."

"Sorry, I can't hear you."

"Well, I'm not going to say this so everyone can hear me.."

I just stare at her. Then she tries again, "Are you a stud?"

"A stud?"

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

"You know, a stud..."

"Nooo, I don't know..."

Then she sorta whispers and sorta mouths out, "Are you gay?"

"Oh... Yeah, why?"

Then she starts laughing at me. Not AT me, but I guess at the silliness of all the questions? No, she's not laughing, she's giggling. I just sit there and wonder what's the big deal and shrug my shoulders. She was sitting over there with a friend.. waiting along with me until our names were called. I guess she was observing people, just like me. People watching. But, shoot, I never ask anybody anything. I keep my mouth shut. These two girls, though.. felt the 'need' to talk to me. The one that started the conversation with me came and sat beside me. She said she wanted to talk to me. And for some reason, I'm not put off by all this nosiness. I guess I've been through worse...

"How long have you been gay? A week?"

"What? Uh, no. why?"

"Because you don't know what a stud is... you've never heard of that?"

"No. Never. I've heard of a stud in a wall..."

More giggles. She starts saying that she's not gay, but that she's asking me because her friend wanted to know. Again, she questions me to see if I'm really gay. I simply say, "I am SO gay."

She giggles, then her friend wonders what we're talking about, so she comes over and sits on the other side of me. Great. More attention. They start talking to each other as if I'm not there. The first girl telling the second girl what little conversation we've been having.

Then the second girl asks, "Do you know what fish is?" Or maybe she said, "fishes".. I have no idea. I didn't dare ask "what" again.

"No, never heard of that either."

She starts explaining that studs are girls who look all cute dressing boyishly and acting boyishly and fishes are the girls that dress in girl clothes and such.

In my head, I'm thinking, "Oh, Butch and Femme.. surely they don't think i'm Butch?.. I don't care. Or do I?" So, she says because of what I'm wearing, (jeans, sweater over t-shirt, a "Life is Good" baseball cap and a green jacket of some sort), I look like I'm a stud.

Then, she points to what she's wearing and says that she's a 'fish' or whatever she called it. I laughed at the stupidity of everything. Also, because she wasn't dressed so 'fish-y' or femme. At least, not in my book.

Then, soon the convo just got too much to keep up with. Apparently these studs are also called thuggs. I told them that I am NOT one of those. One of them asked if I had a girlfriend that I "keep" at home, "Maybe slap around every once in a while..."

"I don't slap anybody around."

"Oooh.. where have you been? We need more like you."

Then the first girl goes into this long story of how she saw this girl last night who she thought was a guy. "She was sooo cute. I couldn't believe she wasn't a guy..."

"Uh huh. Where at?"

"North Dallas."

"Oh."

I just look at both of them, laughing to myself because of how they see things.. see other people.. labeling each other.. all that hoopla. Right around then is when The Only Pretty Girl in the whole place starts moving her stuff closer to us. I'm wondering, "Why in the world is she moving closer? Does she really want to hear this conversation?"

Then the second girl starts asking if I live in the area. I tell her, no, not in that particular area. She asks if I live over by where I actually live and I play dumb pretending that I've never heard of the street. Then she says that she thinks she's seen me at "the store" before. I laugh because I start thinking, "of alllll the stores in the Dallas area, she thinks she's seen me 'at the store.' That's unlikely."

"A store?"

"Yeah, you know, like a grocery store? What? You never shop?" More giggles.

"Yeah, of course I do.. just there's sooo many stores..."

"Well, I think I've seen you at the Sack-N-Save before."

I quickly say, "No, I've never been there." (Because I haven't.) But I think she was waiting for me to tell her where I shop at. Like I'm going to offer any information.

All this time, The Only Pretty Girl is listening to us talk. I wonder if she's ever heard of 'stud' before. I'm starting to get really uncomfortable.

The first girl gets up and leaves and then it's just me and the second girl. She's all smiles with me and I have a stupid smirk on my face. "Does she know I'm laughing at her? Does The Only Pretty Girl really think I'm interested in either of these girls? Why the hell do I care about that? Oh yeah, cause she's really, really Pretty.

Then the second girl asks me if I ever date out of my race. And I say, "Of course." I mean, who stays in their own race anymore? All day I saw White women with Mexicans, White women with Blacks, White women with White guys.. yet I only see single Mexican women and single Black women... Hmm. Why is that? White women are taking all the men? My mind starts wandering.. drifting..


Second girl would not stop smiling at me and making small talk. I wasn't even encouraging any further conversation because after that race question, I was wondering if she was thinking I would ask her out or something. Um, hello? Are you kidding me? Who does that here at The Social Security Office? Just scumbags. I start playing with the plastic that I've taken off of my lip balm, rolling the sticky sides together, making a pretend cig or toothpick, nervous.. nervous.. nervous. And I keep looking over at The Only Pretty Girl for some kind of help. Help me get out of this awkwardness. No, she just watches. She likes watching.. another people watcher.

Then my name is called. I don't think it took me but a second to get out of my chair and head towards that door. Thank goodness. When I came back out, both girls were gone. Good! What if she wanted my number? Ugh!

The Only Pretty Girl is still there, waiting for her name to be called. I look her way and she gives me a wink, "bye." I KNEW she was listening!