(888) 277-4253

Fruit Fly in the City: Our straight girl buzzes The Hole for the first time

Oh! The dating woes of a straight girl in a gay world! It’s like trying to find a tall person in Munchkinland.

While I hold myself directly responsible for the lack of dates in the past year of my life as a result of hanging out with my fruits, I find many of times that the straight men in the gayborhood are men who I am not particularly attracted to or men that I’m attracted to but have girlfriends. What in the world is a fruit fly to do, you ask? I don’t know. But when you find out, let me know.

It just so happens, my fruits introduced me to the establishment called The Hole. As we picked up Donny Banana from work, his face told a thousand words when he realized we’d forgotten his shirt at home. We didn’t have time to turn around to get it, and it was clear we were headed to one of the biggest fruity hot spots in San Diego. You would have thought we were going to be late for a Brittney Spears concert before the meltdown.

When he saw that I was going, he looked at me and said, “You’re going to The Hole?” Now, normally I would answer this question with a fearless “yes” but I had seen that look on his face once before when I was dragged to The Fault Line in Los Angeles (Don’t worry, that article’s coming soon and trust me, you don’t want to miss it). Naturally, I became a bit nervous.

As we arrived at The Hole with what in my opinion seemed like more than enough time, it seemed all of Hillcrest had the same idea. The line was ridiculously long and it seemed to be not moving. I began thinking to myself, "This $h!t better be good."

Lo and behold, there were a few twinks, a couple of otters and even some bears who were stumbling their way out of The Hole when we were patiently (I use that term loosely) waiting in line. I began thinking to myself, ‘What in Bob’s (God’s) name are they putting in those drinks?’ Everyone coming out of this place was on the hot mess express.

Two hours later, my fruits and I were in. I felt like I had just gotten front row tickets to a Lady Gaga concert. Suddenly, I realized why everyone was stumbling out of The Hole; they were selling small pitchers of liquor. I mean, seriously people! And you wonder why I hang out with my fruits. I was happier than a pig in excrement.

As I’m working on pitcher No. 2 (or maybe it was three), the phenomenally gorgeous bartender handed me my receipt to sign, looks at it and says, “What? No number?” to which I immediately replied, “Oh come on now. Don’t tease a girl.”

As I relayed the comical story to my moodles (man poodles), their eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. I saw the wheels turning in their heads. They just love to play matchmaker with any straight guy in the gayborhood but I refuse to settle. I’m picky. What can I say? I guess I should feel cared for. I know my fruits just want to see me happy. Of course, the gorgeous bartender was taken by some other lovely lady. Trust me; I wasn’t crushed in the least. These are things you have to expect as a fruit fly.

Now, I’m sure most of you are thinking, “Why don’t you just go out and hang out in straight bars?” Great observation, Watson! I would, however my lack of straight friends who actually keep their word and give a sister a call every once in a while is enormous.

At one point, my straight friends at work would sit around and make plans right in front of me but not even bother to extend an invitation. Clearly, I felt invisible. Trust me, it’s not my loss. I’m a great time.

I look at it like this; perhaps my work is needed in this world. It’s not like I’m miserable or anything. I’m actually quite content with the progression of my life and all the fruits of my labor (pun intended). I may not have one special man in my life yet, but I’m happy to have several great looking men who adore me. They may not put out for me but I throw caution to the wind with faith that Bob has a really great man in store and my pickiness will eventually pay off. Until then, I’ll be petitioning for all bars in the San Diego area to carry those small pitchers of liquor.


S.T. Fernandez, America's Finest Fruit Fly,

You can view this and other articles on my blog at www.AmericasFinestFruitFly.com. These are my documented experiences of a straight girl in the gayborhood. While I am a novelist, I feel inspired to make others laugh by writing about the situations I've experienced as a result of hanging out with my moodles. Thanks for the content, my friends!