By Loren Gomez

I found out one night that the claw of a ten-pound lobster is larger than my hand. The sometimes raucous, often very crowded, always sociable Barking Crab in Boston is the scene for my latest coming out story. I would have taken one of those giant claws home for a souvenir that fateful evening, but as it turned out, I got to take this story with me. As a recently out bisexual woman, I am now dating men after nearly 25 years of relationships with women. The heterosexual dating scene is not something I even remotely know how to negotiate, but I am definitely having way more fun than I did when I was a hormone-filled teenager. This time around, I still have the hormones, but I have a few advantages including drinking legally and, thankfully, no curfew.

On this particular night, my date offered to pick me up at my apartment, and we drove into Boston. We took a walk, talked and made our way to the Barking Crab. On the waterside walk, I found myself thinking that it might be a fun evening, but I was not sure if I was interested in him on a longer-term basis. At the Crab, there was a significant wait time, and we ended up sitting in the bar with some people in the Navy, in Boston for a visit. One couple was getting married, and when I told them my date and I had just met that night, they could not believe it, we were both so chatty. After about an hour, we were seated at one of the Crab’s signature picnic tables, next to a group from New York City, who were just being served this giant lobster. It was a very happy gathering of four women and a man, two of whom had completed a triathlon that day. More talking and socializing took place.

Mentally, I was starting to feel some pressure at that point in the evening, stemming from the fact that I didn’t really know this guy I was with, and he didn’t know me. I felt the presence of my bisexuality weighing heavily on my mind and wanted to be sure that I let him know more of who I was. I am not sure why I feel so strongly about coming out to my dates and potential dates as soon as possible. Somehow I feel like I am being dishonest if I don’t say anything and allow the guy to think I am straight.

Since I was determined to be honest, I tore myself away from the sight of that lobster and looked at my date. I told him that I had something to tell him. That I was divorced from a woman, with whom I’d had a long term relationship. My date didn’t say much, but after a few minutes he excused himself to go to the men’s room. I continued marveling at the large stones with which the New Yorkers were cracking the lobster’s claws, not realizing that I was at work cracking something as well. Once back, my date looked at me rather seriously. He told me the date needed to end right then. He said I should have told him the information before about being with a woman. He then proceeded to give me money for a cab home, which I declined, and gave me money to pay for the appetizers and drinks, which I accepted. I watched him walk out.

Immediately, I turned to the New Yorkers and told them my date had just left. Their mouths dropped open. They wanted to know why. “I told him I am bisexual,” I replied. “No way! What an asshole!” they all said in true disbelief. I was in agreement. Kindly, they invited me to stay and have dinner with them, which I accepted, and had a very fun time. I joked that if they didn’t get a takeout container for that giant claw, I was going to have to take it. Later on, as my new friends got up to leave, the one man in the group looked at me with a warm smile and some parting words. “We’re not all assholes.” I smiled back. I do believe that.

Loren lives in the Boston area and attends the BLiSS group. She is constantly at work on improving connections on all levels.

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