Two lesbians, a baby and our breakfast
During my first year at college I managed to get digs in a house run by two lesbians. We did not know they were lesbians at the time because we were young and innocent and they threw us off the scent by having a baby.
There were two bedrooms and a sitting room. Me and Pete Smith shared one bedroom and Pete Smith and Ronnie Smith shared the other. Yes – three Smiths and me and two of them called Pete. It made for interest if there was mail for a P Smith – or even an R Smith if the writing was scruffy.
The beauty of our digs was that it included breakfast. That was good because all my money was going on gigs, LPs and petrol for the motorbike. Eating was a novelty.
We discovered the lesbian nature of our landladies when doing a stint of babysitting. They had a whole library of lesbian books with sections underlined – ‘It is better to be a eunuch than a man’ I remember. Anyway – the penny dropped. It explained why one of them always wore dresses and the other had short hair and wore men’s suits and a trilby. You might have thought we would have been more perceptive but we’d all had a cosseted existence.
One day we got up and waited for our breakfast to materialise but there were no smells of bacon, sausage and eggs and we went hungry.
Our two ladies had fallen out. One of them was pregnant again. We surmised (being highly intelligent and being biologists) that there could be some infidelity on the cards.
Breakfast did resume the next day and it was noted that there was a frosty atmosphere between the two ladies that lasted for some time.
It always seemed strange to me that it was the more masculine of the couple who was the one who had become pregnant. She obviously wasn’t quite as manly as we had thought.
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