Diuretic: As usual, you are the voice of sweet reason. (How the hell can you be an Aussie!?) This is not the first thread where a potential good argument was cut off at the knees by people flinging dung at each other.
Anyway, speaking of lesbian bars, there was this Texas cowhand, on a very remote ranch in West Texas, who never watched the news nor read a newspaper or even left his boss's ranch.
Well, one day his boss asked him to take the pickup and drive all the way into Fort Worth to get a part for the combine harvester. Since it would take him most of the day to get there, the boss gave him money to get a hotel room for the night, and come back with the part the next day.
He made the journey, picked up the part, and then checked into his hotel. After having dinner in the hotel dining room, he wondered what to do. Picking up a "Guide to Fort Worth Night Life" he noticed that near his hotel there was a "Gay Bar".
"Huh," he said to himself. "A bar where they're all happy and cheerful. I reckon I ought to check that place out."
So he made his way to the establishment in question, and went in. To his surprise, it was full of women. Not another man in sight. "Whoa," he said to himself. "I guess this could make a man pretty happy and gay. I'll just mosy over to the bar and settle in."
Which he did. The other patrons looked at him quizzically, but ... used to the occasional country simpleton who wandered in and finally got the idea and left ... they just ignored him.
But finally, one woman's curiousity got the better of her, and she came over and sat next to the cowboy. "Howdy," he said. "Hello," she replied. "I just was curious about you, Mister ... why you're here and all. I mean, what are you?"
"Why, I'm a cowboy," he replied.
"A cowboy?" she asked, thinking maybe this was some new sexual identity. "What's a cowboy? What's a cowboy do?"
"Well, ma'am, what a cowboy does ... what I do ... is deal with cows all day. Hell, when I get up in the morning, I'm thinking about cows. And all day, I'm worrying about cows. And when I go to sleep at night, why I even dream about cows. And now, ma'am, can I ask, what are you?"
"Me?" she smiled. "Well, cowboy ... I'm a lesbian."
"A what?"
"A lesbian."
"A les-bee-ann? What the heck's that?"
She laughed and said, "Well, it means that when I get up in the morning, I'm thinking about women. And all day, I'm worrying about women. And when I go to sleep at night, why I even dream about women."
"Oh," said the cowboy, puzzled. "I see, I guess."
He left the bar soon after and went back to his hotel and went to sleep. Next day he drove home.
"Well, Bill," said his boss, on his arrival. "I see you survived the Big Bad City. Did you learn any new tricks there?"
"Well, boss," replied his employee, "I did learn one thing. You know, if you hadda asked me what I was, for all my grown-up life, I would have answered you, 'I'm a cowboy'. But not now."
"No?" said his boss ... "What are you then if you ain't a cowboy?"
"I'm a lesbian!"
Anyway, speaking of lesbian bars, there was this Texas cowhand, on a very remote ranch in West Texas, who never watched the news nor read a newspaper or even left his boss's ranch.
Well, one day his boss asked him to take the pickup and drive all the way into Fort Worth to get a part for the combine harvester. Since it would take him most of the day to get there, the boss gave him money to get a hotel room for the night, and come back with the part the next day.
He made the journey, picked up the part, and then checked into his hotel. After having dinner in the hotel dining room, he wondered what to do. Picking up a "Guide to Fort Worth Night Life" he noticed that near his hotel there was a "Gay Bar".
"Huh," he said to himself. "A bar where they're all happy and cheerful. I reckon I ought to check that place out."
So he made his way to the establishment in question, and went in. To his surprise, it was full of women. Not another man in sight. "Whoa," he said to himself. "I guess this could make a man pretty happy and gay. I'll just mosy over to the bar and settle in."
Which he did. The other patrons looked at him quizzically, but ... used to the occasional country simpleton who wandered in and finally got the idea and left ... they just ignored him.
But finally, one woman's curiousity got the better of her, and she came over and sat next to the cowboy. "Howdy," he said. "Hello," she replied. "I just was curious about you, Mister ... why you're here and all. I mean, what are you?"
"Why, I'm a cowboy," he replied.
"A cowboy?" she asked, thinking maybe this was some new sexual identity. "What's a cowboy? What's a cowboy do?"
"Well, ma'am, what a cowboy does ... what I do ... is deal with cows all day. Hell, when I get up in the morning, I'm thinking about cows. And all day, I'm worrying about cows. And when I go to sleep at night, why I even dream about cows. And now, ma'am, can I ask, what are you?"
"Me?" she smiled. "Well, cowboy ... I'm a lesbian."
"A what?"
"A lesbian."
"A les-bee-ann? What the heck's that?"
She laughed and said, "Well, it means that when I get up in the morning, I'm thinking about women. And all day, I'm worrying about women. And when I go to sleep at night, why I even dream about women."
"Oh," said the cowboy, puzzled. "I see, I guess."
He left the bar soon after and went back to his hotel and went to sleep. Next day he drove home.
"Well, Bill," said his boss, on his arrival. "I see you survived the Big Bad City. Did you learn any new tricks there?"
"Well, boss," replied his employee, "I did learn one thing. You know, if you hadda asked me what I was, for all my grown-up life, I would have answered you, 'I'm a cowboy'. But not now."
"No?" said his boss ... "What are you then if you ain't a cowboy?"
"I'm a lesbian!"