The last time it snowed in NYC I caught myself looking outside the window and thinking about going out for a stroll in Washington Square Park with that nice stone butch who thinks I pick assholes on purpose and I need to be pickier. For the record: (a) I am picky. I don’t go out with the first butch who tells me I have a beautiful smile, inviting bedroom eyes or great hair, and (b) I don’t go around looking for assholes. I don’t go around looking, period. It’s true though that I have a tendency to attract and be attracted to the assertive, aggressive, and cocky or even arrogant type. The type of butch that is seen by other butches as an obnoxious, nasty fucker or, in plain English, an asshole.
My problem is that nice butches don’t know what to do with a femme like me. I have gone on a couple of dates with chronically shy, nice butches where after a while the conversation dies and I’m highly uncomfortable because there is only so much talking that I can do on my own. I cannot hold my own hand and I cannot kiss myself either. I don’t know if they think I will break if they kiss me without asking for permission – not to mention grabbing my ass, touching my tits or fucking me in the bathroom. And I don’t have the cooties, mind you! After those dates, emails fly back and forth and they tell me that they are oh so attracted to me and they were thinking about kissing me and holding my hand and this and that but they didn’t do it because they thought I may have found it offensive. I’m going to tell you what is offensive: wasting X number of hours putting an outfit together, coloring your hair, getting waxed, and getting a manicure and pedicure to end up talking to yourself in a restaurant because the butch sitting across the table is mesmerized and can’t even say her name. I get it: I’m gorgeous. But get over it and do something during the date not 24 hours later. Goddamnit!
Normally when a date ends and there’s no goodbye kiss, I assume the butch is not into me and move on. Even if she texts or emails me after the date confessing how attracted she is to me, I’m totally turned off by her lack of balls and I don’t want to be bothered in getting ready for a second date. I may be mistaken, but I perceive nice butches as not knowing if they are coming or going and sexually inexperienced. I picture them freaking out when I tell them how I like it and leaving me soaking wet but unsatisfied or, even worse, feeling like I am a healthy widow with marmalade getting licked off by a Chihuahua (total turn off in case you don’t get the joke).
The above mentioned stone butch doesn’t get that assholes aren’t assholes. Being assertive and having self-confidence doesn’t automatically mean that a butch or stone butch doesn’t know how to treat a femme. Assholes know chivalry is not dead. They hold doors, help us remove our coats, pull out our chairs and give us their undivided attention during a date like most nice butches would do. 90% of the times the only difference between an asshole and a nice butch is that the asshole has the balls to ask a femme out on a date.
For me, the draw is that assholes are active, fun, in charge and not afraid to show their interest. They can be very good and usually are very good at communicating what they want both verbally and physically. Assholes don’t ask for permission, they act. They don’t analyze every single word, comma and period I have ever written and use it against me. They don’t compare themselves to my exes. They don’t agonize about what could go wrong. They don’t make a list of all that’s wrong with them and the reasons why it will never work between us. Or, if they do, they have the common sense not to tell me about it.
Some might say that an asshole is not relationship material and a femme can’t allow herself to be vulnerable around one. I don’t know. As long as she doesn’t smoke, doesn’t show up to a date with her ex sitting in the backseat of her car, and has table manners, I’m willing to lower my guard and give it a try.