Student CAMP: 

I have a lesbian friend who has a problem. She is having a very hard time getting dates. Being single myself, I am very sympathetic, but her problem is one that I feel goes beyond simply being unable to find a date. It is one of the most unfortunate phenomena in our illustrious community—not having a girlfriend. Or rather, not having a girlfriend...exactly....

Those of you who have seen this train wreck in action will know what I’m talking about. For those of you unacquainted, I would like to describe ambiguous dating in all of its insidious forms.

Mild case: Laura meets Susan at the Womyn’s Sewing Circle and Meditation Retreat. They are both single and chat a fair bit. Eventually they go out for coffee together. Of course, neither of them says the dreaded "D" word, for that would be far too easy. To their friends they are "being cute."

Moderate case: Laura and Susan have single-handedly kept the local coffee shop afloat with the sheer amount of espresso that they consume on a weekly basis there. They occasionally hold hands, spend a few hours talking on the phone every time they call, and go out dancing together. Their mutual friends are placing bets as to when they’re going to get in each other’s pants.

Extreme case: Susan and Laura hang all over each other at every possible opportunity. They cuddle constantly and kiss each other on occasion, but only in places that aren’t overtly romantic, such as on the cheek or hand. They are rarely without each other’s company. Their mutual friends are ready to beat them to death with clue sticks.

This progression, lest you think I am making this up, is based on the sad chronology of my aforementioned friend, who just the other day participated in a conversation something like this:

"I slept in her bed last night."

"Yikes."

"Well, I was tired and I didn’t want to go back to my room."

"She lives down the hall from you."

"Well, yes. So we spent the whole night cuddling. I wonder if this means something."

"I am so glad you’re not Moses. You would have spent the rest of your life wondering if that flaming shrubbery that was speaking to you actually meant something."

It has been my observation that dating ambiguity most often occurs when the sexual orientation of one of the women in question has not entirely been pinned down (in my friend’s case, the girl she is interested in has only recently come to terms with the fact that women might be nice to date after all), and the one who is allegedly a Well Adjusted Homosexual is afraid to actually suck it up and ask what is going on for fear of seeming pushy or, God forbid, like they want to recruit. Sometimes it’s a little ridiculous to be the secure one.

I largely blame this phenomenon of ambivalence on how women are taught to socialize.

Holding hands is not necessarily a romantic act for two women, nor is physical affection. I do not wish to swap genders by any means, but damn it, I wish that when I got the nerve to try to link arms with that cute girl from women’s studies that it would be seen for what it is and not some "oh, we’re such good friends" crap. Men do not have this problem. (Yes, I know I am ignoring the dangers of having people know you’re not just friends for the purposes of this rant.) And then there is the fact that, well, lesbians are allowed to be friends with one another, for better or worse. I have a great number of lesbian friends that I am not interested in romantically, and on reflection I find myself wondering if I have ever caused any of them untoward agony over what my intentions towards them were. (This would explain the occasional friend who has run away screaming in terror at a dinner invitation, actually—and here I thought I wasn’t a good cook.)

In truth, I have been on a few more ambiguous dates than I really would care to admit. It’s an interesting head trip—there’s something about mentally waffling between "we’re just friends, tra la la" to "she’s holding my hand oh dear ASERDJAGAHH!!!" followed by prolonged twitching. Perhaps I am single for a reason.

Anyway, on behalf of lesbians everywhere, I would like to entreat our community to cease this abhorrent practice of prolonged ambiguity. Yes, not knowing where you stand can be a fun and interesting dance, but when your friends are preemptively designing your commitment ceremony invitations, it would not be a bad thing to actually say the word "date," finally get around to kissing her, or making some other kind of clear indication one way or the other as to what the hell is going on because trust me, it’s driving everyone insane.

At this point I feel I need to sit down with a Valium and fan myself. Thank you.