There Really Should be a Manual on How to be a Lesbian

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic
There Really Should be a Manual on How to be a Lesbian.

Submitted: November 09, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 09, 2012



There Really Should be a Manual on How to be a Lesbian

Miami International Airport

December 2006


I thumbed through a magazine rubbing my left calf as I sat at the Gate. This was the third Gate I had been to during this layover and I wanted nothing more than to take my seat on the plane. I was exhausted and ready to be home. My extended layover in the Miami International Airport had not been on my itinerary. A young lady walked passed me and then she stopped, turning around for a moment. I wasn’t really paying attention so her words came unexpectedly and I glanced up to see exactly who she was speaking to, “Are you family?” She stepped in my direction so I assumed her question was for me. Her grammar was a bit off and I wondered if English was her second language though she didn’t appear to speak with an accent. Shouldn’t you have said ‘are we family?’ or ‘are we related?’ Looking back I should have pretended I didn’t speak English, faked a seizure or just walked away in order to save us both from the headache which was rapidly approaching.

She didn’t look a thing like me or anyone else in my Italian – American family. She was slender, beautiful with soft white skin and blonde hair. Not wanting to be rude I responded, “Well, what’s your last name?” She turned her head to the side and appeared to study my face for what I assumed was for any possible family resemblance. Unfortunately for me that was not why she looked perplexed. She hesitated with her response, “Um….uhh, my name is Rebecca Burke. Are you family?” Her voice now sounded doubtful and uneasy. I made every attempt to wipe the smirk off my face. Seriously, you think Burke is a branch off the Tomasi family tree? I must really look like someone else. “I apologize, but I don’t think we are family. None the less, I’m Piccina Tomasi. It is a pleasure to meet you.” I rose from my seat and extended my right hand to greet her. She laughed and shook my hand saying “Are you kidding me?.........I’m sorry……I thought you might have been ‘family’ you know, as in the lesbian/gay family?” Oh man, I am part of that family, I just didn’t know WE had a family. “Oh got it, sorry I am.” I stuttered as I spoke realizing I probably hadn’t made any sense. “I am gay, a lesbian. I just didn’t know there was a ‘family’ thing.” The look on her face told me she was skeptical of my response. “Really, I am a lesbian…..I mean….apparently I’m not very good at it, but I am a lesbian.” The honesty of my words convinced her that I was clueless, but completely harmless.

We both sat and made small talk about the airport and our upcoming flights. We were both heading to San Francisco, California – her for the first time and me simply because I couldn’t find a reasonable flight into San Jose, California. “So Piccina, are you seeing anyone?” I didn’t know her well enough to anticipate such a personal question. “No. No I am not seeing anyone.” I didn’t initially see the point in expanding and telling her that not only was I not fluent in the gay/lesbian culture and vocabulary, but I had also not technically dated anyone. I felt nerves bubble in my stomach as the words formed on her lips, “Have you ever been in love?” Finally a question I could answer. “Yes of course I have. ” My mind began to slip back into the classroom at the Santa Cruz Waldorf School, to the stunning woman who had captured my heart and soul those many years ago. “Aww. Your face lit up when you spoke. So, you’re married then? Who is she?” Rebecca seemed genuinely interested however I dreaded telling another person outside of my family about how I had fallen in love with someone who, well, I just never quite got around to telling them. 

Taking my seat on the plane I casually waved to Rebecca as she passed down the aisle. She had taught me a humble lesson in becoming a better person. Never miss an opportunity to stop and smell the roses.

© Copyright 2018 Piccina. All rights reserved.

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