It's a Small Gay World

On the bus on the way to Apex Saturday night, Mo talked to some fellow clubgoers. Midway through the conversation, Female Fellow Clubgoer asked if I rode the bus into Dupont during the week. I replied that I do indeed commute via Metrobus (I knew she looked familiar!). It was the Mass. Ave. and 22nd Dyke! (I identify people by their stops.) We've totally exchanged the "hey, homo" nod before!

We introduced ourselves formally, and she said, "I can't believe I finally met Hot Commuter Lesbian!" Apparently I am a frequent topic of conversation for her and her (now ex-) girlfriend. I'm torn between feeling really flattered (it's not every day that someone who's not my girlfriend and who is, therefore, not completely biased calls me hot!) and really self-conscious. As much as I people-watch (and give descriptive names to the subjects of my observations), I've never really considered that someone may be watching (and naming) me. It's a little creepy if you think about it too much. Does that mean I'm creepy, too?

So anyway, later that night, when I was heading for the bathroom at the club, some girl grabbed Mo and asked her if I went to Small Virginia College (I did). When I came back from the little girls' room, I joined their conversation. It turns out that this girl attended a conference last year with the nonprofit organization where Mo interned, and the girl is from the area where I went to college (she didn't recognize me personally but recognized my T-shirt, which was from a local bar there). It also turns out that she used to date (or at least sleep with) my future roommate's girlfriend's roommate, who is friends with the girls with whom Mo and I danced earlier that evening. I'm sure Kevin Bacon factors in there somewhere, too.

So I finally experienced firsthand just how small DC really is.

And you never know who's watching you.