“The Pink Sofa, The Pink Sofa”.
Those words had been circulating in my brain ever since my friend dropped in with a bunch of flowers. I had been dumped and was having a fully fledged pity party for one.
The flowers were quite beautiful at the time but several weeks later they sat proudly on my credenza, totally dead, dry and brittle. A somewhat cruel reminder of the environment my vagina found herself in, and ultimately the reason why I considered a sit on the pink sofa!
My friend is a lesbian (happily monogamous with her girlfriend), and she thinks it would be the perfect solution for me to try. She tries to sell the concept to me like a sales woman in the supermarket, tempting me to try a new brand of chocolate. “Give it a taste and you just may switch brands” could be her catch cry.
The Pink Sofa is an online dating site for women. Lesbians. Box licking and all that jazz. No penis involved, just a pair of boobies to compete with mine. I wondered if I would enjoy holding a pair of boobs in my hands as much as men appear to enjoy mine?
Cautiously, I typed in the web address. The logo is actually a pink sofa! It looked so inviting, soft and comfortable, but vaguely like a pair of lips. I got sidetracked as I assessed the design concept behind the logo, wondering if it’s supposed to be a pair of facial lips or possibly, pink lady lips.
I began the registration process, calling myself ‘GraceMustang’. It’s the screen name I’ve used on other dating sites. Maybe one day there will be an “I slept with GraceMustang” convention, attendance would be very poor with performers at the convention having a mixed level of skill!
My e-mail account gets flooded with dating site notifications on a daily basis and now I’ve added a lesbian site into the mix. I make a mental note ask my friend to delete my email account if I suddenly die. She also has the grim task of removing a couple of ‘private’ items from my bedroom before my mother sees them.
At the Pink Sofa, basic details are entered as per all other dating sites I’ve come across. With a click of the next button I thought I was ready to start browsing profiles but instead an entirely new question popped up.
It was asking me to label myself. As in, check the category to which I belonged. Only problem being, I didn’t belong to any of them. These were the options I was faced with and the metal gymnastics that followed:
Androgynous – Nope, but I’m going to Google the word to double check.
Leather – I do own three leather jackets? I’m confused already. I’m not a sun-baker either so I don’t have horrible old leather skin. Anyway, who would admit to that on a dating site? Maybe it’s asking me if I like leather pants. I don’t own a pair, that would be criminal. I am a leather snob and only own leather shoes and handbags… so maybe I tick this box?