For your consideration: Meeting older butch Simon when she takes pity on you playing pool and losing miserably in the dyke bar. Pressing up behind you to adjust your aim, kicking your feet wider to change your stance, being a little mean about how bad you are at it in your ear.
uh huh, i'm listening
you had been playing poorly. you knew that but you had to keep trying. you'd finally worked up the courage to go to the dyke bar across town (all by yourself, too) and you couldn't back out now.
it was a sweet older woman who was playing against you. sweet, but vicious, not letting you get away with anything and thoroughly trouncing you. it was when the older woman started to giggle with her friends that you realized she wasn't as sweet as you'd thought and you started to feel your shoulders creeping up to you ears in embarrassment about your playing style.
you eyed the door and thought about ducking out a quick exit but you knew yourself. if you left now, you'd never come back and would stew on the interaction for months. no, better to try and stick it out.
you trudged around the corner of the table to line up your next shot, bending down and holding the cue stick with trembling fingers when you felt a wash of heat along the back of your thighs. you quickly stood only to feel a hand anchor itself between your shoulder blades, keeping you angled down. you had let out a little 'oof' at the abrupt repositioning.
looking over your shoulder, you're met with the handsomest woman you'd ever seen. short blond hair streaked liberally with gray and a furrow carved into the space between her eyebrows. she was big, towering over you as she looked down at you with dark eyes. she met your gaze with a grunt.
"y're playing like shit."
