[/caption]
It was the summer of '71--two months before I said Zeitgeist.
Graveyard shift at the freight dock.
Me and Goob. Swapping fantasies on a stack of pallets, waiting for a Salt Lake truck full of car parts and paint.
"Mostly," says Goob, "I just want to have sex with a girl, but as a girl."
"Nothing wrong with that," I said.
"Don't tell nobody."
"Your secret's safe with me."
There was nowhere to work it in. Not as an adjective. Not with Goob.
Then the truck arrived, and when I got down from the pallet, Goob snapped a towel at my crotch. I'm not sure that meant anything.
The First Time I Wanted to Say “Sapphic”
[caption id="attachment_1266" align="aligncenter" width="399" caption="The Poet of Lesbos"][/caption]
It was the summer of '71--two months before I said Zeitgeist.
Graveyard shift at the freight dock.
Me and Goob. Swapping fantasies on a stack of pallets, waiting for a Salt Lake truck full of car parts and paint.
"Mostly," says Goob, "I just want to have sex with a girl, but as a girl."
"Nothing wrong with that," I said.
"Don't tell nobody."
"Your secret's safe with me."
There was nowhere to work it in. Not as an adjective. Not with Goob.
Then the truck arrived, and when I got down from the pallet, Goob snapped a towel at my crotch. I'm not sure that meant anything.
[/caption]
It was the summer of '71--two months before I said Zeitgeist.
Graveyard shift at the freight dock.
Me and Goob. Swapping fantasies on a stack of pallets, waiting for a Salt Lake truck full of car parts and paint.
"Mostly," says Goob, "I just want to have sex with a girl, but as a girl."
"Nothing wrong with that," I said.
"Don't tell nobody."
"Your secret's safe with me."
There was nowhere to work it in. Not as an adjective. Not with Goob.
Then the truck arrived, and when I got down from the pallet, Goob snapped a towel at my crotch. I'm not sure that meant anything.
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