Bless me Mother for I am not who I was

“Bless me Mother for I am not who I was.”

“And who are you, dear child?”

“You may not know but I was once a 20 something that met a rando on the internet (at the time it was scary and everyone you met off the internet was a serial ax murder) and willing to drive 3 hours, to the BIG CITY, to pick them up from the airport, to bring them to my house.”

“And now what?”

“I am a 40 something that is scared to drive an hour to a Small City, that i know really well, to meet a rando (who seems really nice) at PRIDE.”

“You have fallen.”

“I have grown up and much more jaded.”

“That too.”

“I haven’t done this shit in over 20 years.”

“You need to get out there!”

“I know that! I am trying! I didn’t think it would be this hard, finding a human I like.”

“Well, you are on Tinder.”

“At one point I was getting better results on Grindr.”

“Gurl.”

“I never once lied on that app.”

“Anyway, about PRIDE. Whatcha wearing?”

“Jeans and my purple shirt. Makeup is gonna be a smear of glitter eyeshadow. And I got my pin that says ‘I only look straight.’”

“Classy.”

“I just don’t know if I give off queer vibes or not. Gods, I don’t want to be looked at as an ally.”

“Eww.”

“I know.”

“Well, I hope to take your confession after PRIDE and I hope it is a juicy one.”

“Mother!”

“Get it Gurl!”