I went to the box store (technically Pak West/Serv-All, but who cares, they sell boxes) to get shipping boxes for the impending holiday bearpocalypse and also my impending move. There I met Gina, a sunny lady in her 60s(?) who rules the place, finds me delightful, and refers to me as "the bear lady" or "the bear girl" (I'm about 40) because names are hard.
I, a cis woman with visible boobs, mentioned that I'm moving and used he/him pronouns for my new roomie. Gina immediately started joshing me about having a male roomie.
Had I ever lived with a man before?
Ehh, does growing up with brothers count?
She cackled. So what was this fella like?
Nice guy. I've known him for years. His cat is cool.
Did I perhaps have ... DESIGNS on the gentleman?
Distractedly, I replied, "I think my girlfriend would have opinions about that."
Dead. Silence. Just long enough for me to regret my every life choice and wonder if I needed a new box store.
Then Gina WHOOPED. Her entire face lit up. She called in a younger worker to tell him, "The bear girl has a girlfriend!" I have never seen someone that straight be so DELIGHTED to hear queer shit.
Eventually she calmed down enough for me to explain that new roomie is also technically young enough to be my child, and that HIS taste in partners also excluded ME, so I really hadn't thought much about the whole affair, and really I was just hoping his cat kept liking me.
"That's the most YOU thing I've ever heard out of you," she said, and was off in giggles again.
