I am such a slut.

Ok, not really. But last night was an absurdly good time with, of all people, three straight men. At a gay club… drinking… and dancing. Who knew?

It started when I agreed to go see Hell’s Belles, an all-girl AC/DC cover band (don’t ask…), with three straight guys I know, along with two of their girlfriends. We went to the show, which wasn’t that great, and got tipsy. Half way through, we were all bored, so I jokingly said, “Let’s go hit the gay clubs!”

Imagine my surprise when the three hetero guys paused, looked at each other curiously, and said, “Okay!”

Flash forward to an hour later: There I was, sandwiched in the middle of three slightly drunken grinding men—all straight. I’m sorry if I’m beating the “straight guy” thing to death, but I just couldn’t believe it. Am I sheltered? Do things like this normally happen to everyone else? I’m not sure the girlfriends could believe it either though.

I would have given an appendage for a camera last night.

After three and a half hours of non-stop dancing, most of it in frighteningly close contact with heterosexual men, I came home and went to bed. I have never danced like that, for so long, with so many people.

And this morning, I am so sore.

God, I’m old!

Since those guys were: 1) friends, 2) drunk, and 3) straight, I decided that all my close-contact grinding with men other than Patrick was okay (mostly because of #3). It does not make me a bad boyfriend, or a bad person. Just an opportunistic one. Plus, I told Patrick all about it, and he loved it.

After all, how many gay men can say they’ve been groped by three straight guys at once?