Cracks the whip

The inspiration for tonight’s early morning tale was inspired by the following tweet by the lady-fair @avflox:

It made me chuckle for obvious reasons… more than you know.

I come from a very conservative Catholic family background. I am the cliche “Catholic school-girl-gone-bad.” My mother “has only slept with 2 people in [her] life, and married both of them!” She has called me promiscuous but denied calling me a slut. I told her that when she wants to try and use big vocabulary like that, she may want to consider looking at a thesaurus if only to make sure she was saying what she truly wanted. I know she had to have known its synonymous with slut and said it intentionally but was trying to patronize me.

I like to consider myself a bit of a modernist. My mother calls it “free love” for the new age. I guess to a degree that she’s partially right.

Mom and I have had a few discussions about her displeasure with me being this way… the habitually dating, the alternative lifestyle, the bi-sexuality, etcetera, etcetera. If only she knew more about the aka. Actually, I think it’s better that she doesn’t. The last detail was enough for both her and dad (who never agree on anything) to agree on something. I’m glad I could be that one thing. Even if they don’t necessarily view it in a positive level.

The coming out stories separately were about the same. My parents reacted in the best possible matter.. totally ridiculously.

Dad’s story was pretty tame. I forget why and when it actually came out about me being bi, but I do remember it was post high school. He found out later, so it probably affected him less. In high school, I was a bit of a difficult pill to swallow… but more so for my mom because I was stuck living with her against my will- making for some very angsty teenage book fodder.

When dad heard, he honestly didn’t believe it. I think he really just thought it was some sort of attention seeking thing or some outright lie. I am my dad’s favorite. Never in his eyes, could he ever view me as negatively as he does the gay culture.

Even when I had a steady serious girlfriend, I’d ask dad “So when are you going to believe me? I’m not kidding about this.” Dad said “It’s just a phase…”

Poor dad. He’s still holding his breath for me to be over that phase.

Mom though? She’s actually completely accepted it now. It’s not something she views as positive. However, nothing that I do is positive in my mother’s eyes.. so it makes perfect sense to her coming from me.

One night, she had to pick me up from being out on another all nighter with a friend I had been forbidden to hang out with. It was a long, crazy night and it ended up in a car accident.

My friends and I were alright. We had been out all night and went to a doughnut shop early in the morning. Two of the guys were being asinine to the owner, and he threatened to call the cops. We left in a rush, and when Rachel was going to turn onto the main street, she didn’t see the truck, so it t-boned us. It was standard for everyone in an accident to be checked by an ambulance or have our parents sign off on it.

Rachel’s mom got a call. She saw me and her daughter in the back of an ambulance. We both were “scantily clad”- me in black combat boots, fishnets, short shorts and some low cut top. Mom was called and had come to get me. She was livid. I was in deep shit.

The usual dialogue started “What did I ever go wrong with you…” “There’s nothing majorly traumatic that’s happened to you.. I just don’t get it…”

I told her 2 major things that had happened. Apparently she had been oblivious to them. However, it still wasn’t cracking anything. She continued on this tangent. Finally, I told her the one thing that I knew she likely wouldn’t pick up on. I told her about how I had been interested in a couple of girls from school and from a coffee shop I regularly hung out at.

“I’m bi mom. I like girls too.. ”

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. But then my mom looked at me seriously and started to bitch “You mean you like to lick cunts and put your face in pussy?!”

At 17, I responded the only natural way one could: “Stop it mom, you’re turning me on thinking about those girls…”

She didn’t find it funny. Still doesn’t to this day. Me? I couldn’t have asked for a better response actually. I guess the sadistic side is showing a bit now. Ooops 😉