The Lesbigaggle invades Hinode

I went out with my adopted kid sister and her girlfriend last night. We decide Hibachi was the order of the evening so we went to Hinode. Hinode is kid sis’s FAVORITE place to eat and I must admit I do love the Hibachi Scallops.

As it was Friday, the place was packed. We were seated at a grill table with two older straight couples. The waitress did us a favor by placing us on the opposite end of the table, as it was immediately apparent the seven of us had nothing in common. These folks were very uptight.

The one older woman, who was wearing what appeared to be a dead poodle dyed brown around her neck, had this pinched expression on her face. It truly looked as though she had to go through life smelling a cat turd.

We settled in and placed our orders. The hijinx began immediately. I noticed a woman helping her elderly mother back to the Ladies’ Room. Grandma looked like she probably would have been able to get around fine if it weren’t for the seven inch wedge sneaker contraptions she was wearing on her feet.

I nudged Sis, “Did you SEE those shoes?”

Sis, being quite the shoe aficionado, whirled, “Where?”

I explained the woman had just gone into the Loo. So for the next five minutes our heads kept swiveling around every time there was movement in that direction.

Sis’s girlfriend quipped, “You two look like hyenas on the prowl for prey.”

Sis nudged me and said, “Yeah, you get the weak one.”

At the end of the table, Poodle Woman arched a contemptuous eyebrow.

When our chef came out, he looked like he was about 13 and said his name was Scott. Scott was about as close to being Asian as I am (and there’s a reason they call me the Irish Hand Grenade) and he was having technical difficulties with the grill. He informed us it’d be a few minutes before it would warm up.

At that moment, one of the older male codgers at the end of the table came to life. “What kind of Japanese name is Scott?” He said guffawing at his own comedic brilliance. It was my turn to arch the angry brow.

He continued to berate poor Scott until he changed Scott’s name to Chuck, because that sounded German. And THAT was HILARIOUS. Not so much.

Finally, Scott got to making hibachi and we all fell back into conversation. Sis started asking me about Portland, ME. I spent a lot of time in Maine during my straight incarceration. It really is a cool city.

I told Sis as much then warned, “But you don’t want to go this time of year. You’ll freeze your hooter scooter off.”

Why is it, just as you say something really provocative or embarrassing, when you think the noise of the restaurant will shield you, some how at that moment it just gets quiet?

Yeah. It got quiet.

Scott’s head whipped around, nearly losing his spatula and perhaps a zucchini, “WHAT did you say?”

Sis and her girlfriend were collapsed in gales of laughter. So it was down to me.

Sis made a joke about me not being right in the head. I followed it up with, “Well, the hospital GAVE me a PASS.”

Scott was cracking up. We were cracking up. The geriatrics at the end of the table were NOT amused.

They were now all eyeing us in that way some straight people do, when they realize they’re being confronted with The Gays. My friends and I don’t make a point of pointing out who we are but we aren’t ashamed either. We’re obviously lesbians and sometimes I think it really troubles people that we’re so OK with it.

Sis giggled, “They just figured us out … kind of. The one with that poodle thing is mentally checking through her Dyke Diagram and wondering where our flannel is but is convinced because we talked about dogs and there was a mention of a cat.”

I chortled, drawing more attention to us and cast my eyes down embarrassed. Then I looked right back up and smiled directly at Poodle Woman. There was a lot I wanted to say:

No, I don’t give a damn you don’t approve of me or my friends. I’d hate to live in that stuffed shirt prison you call a life. I laugh and I love and I know who I am which I’m gathering is a far cry from who you are. So pay attention to your own kind down there who’ve made just a big of an ass of themselves as we have and leave us be.

It was her turn to be uncomfortable and she did turn her attention back to her group. I guess the Irish Hand Grenade can still be menacing.
Scott was just relieved the attention was off of him for the moment and gave us some extra steak. I like that kid.