Besides a club or perhaps a nightclub.
Some lesbians thrive in the context of the nightclub. Some lesbians are brilliant, great dancers whom don’t also want to engage in just about any real-life conversation so as to make a link with an other woman. They simply twist their bendable sides into the beat of this music and seductively lock eyes with a striking woman creature from over the club, and BAM! Abruptly they’re making down, arms all tangled up in each other’s locks, grinding into each other’s systems, without ever having exchanged a solitary term. Some lesbians takes shot after shot of tequila, and somehow, have the ability to not really blackout and then make a fool of by themselves. Some lesbians will last until two have always been without falling over or breaking a heel or loudly telling down their ex right in front of a crowd that is large.
Some lesbians have actually such noisy, booming sounds and such finely tuned, razor sharp hearing that they’re able to actually CHAT over all of that noisy club music blaring through the speakers.
I’m NOT this form of lesbian.
We fiercely love lesbian pubs and dutifully go to as many lesbian events in a clubby environment as I can manage, but I’m not the best version of myself.
I’m small—tiny even—easily lost and panicked when tossed right into a crowd that is large and my face does not sparkle and pop music within the dimly-lit flickery nightclub lights.