by Fay Jacobs
By the time Thursdays roll around Ive pretty much had it up to my eyeballs with people assuming everybody is heterosexual.
Thats why I love my beach weekends so muchwith all the diversity in this community, gay people get a breather from the insulting assumptions we hear most everywhere else.
And when Rehoboth burst to life on Memorial Day weekend, I counted dozens of reasons why my comfort level here is so high.
Between the awesome womens dance at the convention center (even if Bonnie and I were the oldest women on the dance floor), Baltimore Avenue and Lambda Rising teeming with people, and Lori not having time for a single "Oy Vey!" about the throngs lining up for authentic N.Y. corned beef at her just-opened Oy Vey Cafegay people were everywhere. Between all of us and Rehoboths wonderful gay-friendly merchants and our many straight-but-not-narrow friends, insulting assumptions were mercifully hard to come by.
Unlike last week when Bonnie and I were at our local mall and a salesman eyed the two of us, looked at my credit card and asked, "What are you, sisters, or something?"
Now this happens to most lesbian couples I know, even if theyre as different as Jack and Mrs. Sprat. The only exception (and Im not even including race here) is when only one lesbian has grey hair. Then they ask the embarrassing "mother and daughter?"
But mostly its the sister thing. When one lesbian offers a credit card to pay for purchases for the pair, salespeople make the only assumption theyre conditioned to make: its not a husband and wife or parent and child, so these women with financial ties must be, uh, um, sisters!
When the clerk asked if we were sisters or something I wanted to ask if he was a moron or something, but I settled for telling him we were merely "or something."
Gay people need an ad campaign to let the world know that alternative spousal relationships exist. We could plaster busses and billboards with photos of great looking lesbian couples saying, "Were no sister act."
Or posters of three embracing couplestwo men, two women and a mix n match, with copy reading "Just friends? Think again."
And the first place Id post them would be hotels.
We were checking in at the Fairmont in Chicago when the clerk asked us, "Can you make do with one bed or do you want two?"
Boldly, without hesitation, I said, "One will be fine."
The clerk looked at us and said, "Are you sure? Because I can get you a room with two."
"Im sure," I said with conviction. " Well take the room with one."
"Well, lets check a minute," she continued, tapping on her keyboard.
"Really, its not..." I protested.
"Oh! Here we go! I do have a room with two beds," she said triumphantly, handing me a key.
Invisible lesbians. I dont think she would have listened if it had been my picture on TIME Magazine with the "Yup, Im Gay!" headline.
Then there was the gallstone incident.
I arrived at the emergency room with what felt like a Subaru Outback lodged in my gut. Im doubled over in a triage room chair and they shove a financial responsibility form under my nose asking me to check, among other things, single, married or divorced. I was in no mood to debate. I qualified to check all three, so I did. Hours later, told I needed drive-by gall bladder surgery, they got me again.
"Mrs. Jacobs, er...Miss Jacobs..er.." (I guess they read the financial form) "were taking you to X-Ray. Is there any chance youre pregnant?"
"No, not a chance."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Theres not the slightest chance you could be pregnant?"
"No. I dont sleep with men and my biological clock stopped ticking before the lesbian baby boom."
Now this got her attention, but she couldnt seem to process the information.
"So youre sure?"
"That Im a lesbian? You bet." Morphine is really good stuff.
I never did find out what she checked on the form.
In my pre-op haze I stewed about the ignorant transmission man who assumed I was scamming him when I brought the car in under Bonnies warranty; the insensitive people who ask Bonnie "are you still with Fay?" when theyd never dream of asking a colleague married 15 years the same question; and the legions of Americans who assume that straight couples are the only ones working hard, paying taxes, and living in the suburbs with station wagons and dogs.
Finally, a nurse came to take me to the O.R. and asked whod be in the lounge awaiting word of my condition. I gave her Bonnies name. "Friend or relative?" the nurse asked.
Another trick question!
"Um, relative."
"Sister? "
"No. Um..."
I finally lost it and whimpered, "Spouse...." To her credit, the nurse, with a hint of apology said, "Oh, I guess we need some time to get used to these situations so we can do better."
Well, the rest of the world should take a lesson from Rehoboth.
On Memorial Day Weekend alone, Plumb Loco celebrated its opening at the old Twigs location on First Street by hosting an impressive crowd of women, their men friends and some straight tourists, who I hope had a good time there, too; Cloud 9 was packed with gays and straights with identical agendas: great food and drink; meanwhile, in the bar, my new friend Tom French told me about the history of Rehoboth hes researching by interviewing an eclectic lot, and back in the Pines, the Corner Cupboard Inn had its annual open house, where Rehoboth residents, in all their diversity, mingled, nibbled and enjoyed the terrific ambiance.
And nobody assumed things were any other way than the diverse way they appeared.
Capping the weekend, Bonnie and I were half a foursome at Fusion, celebrating the birthday of one of our Kingsbridge Road friends.
Behind us, two straight couples in their late 60s or early 70s celebrated a birthday too, and we exchanged toasts.
When they asked where we were from, I pointed to the boys and said "These guys have a home here, and were from Maryland, but spend weekends here on our boat."
And lo and behold, the quartet had not a moments hesitation processing our non-traditional coupling.
And thats how it should be. No if, and or assumptions about it.
Thank you, Rehoboth.
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6/13/97 Issue. Copyright 1997 by CAMP Rehoboth, Inc. All rights reserved.