Purple Golf Cart: The Misadventures of a Lesbian Grandma by Ronni Sanlo Page A
Authors: Ronni Sanlo
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bar none. I dressed in my tightest tank top and shortest shorts and showed up at Eileen’s house at the appointed time. I couldn’t wait to begin, to learn, to eventually have the same reputation as Eileen! Illusions of lesbian grandeur!
As Eileen began to work on me, I quickly realized that she was about to do things that seemed awfully risqué, and risky! I don’t think I’d gotten to that chapter in The Joy of Lesbian Sex! Some of her, uh, techniques just did not seem joyful to me at all! I did the only thing that made sense to me. I left! Actually, I ran out of Eileen’s house, carrying more of my clothes than what I was wearing, and high-tailed it right back to my apartment. So much for my sex lessons. I was left to my own devices and novice explorations, illusions of lesbian sexual grandeur shot to hell.
Another time, several months later, after Patsy and Dawn broke up, and during a time when I had a whopping case of laryngitis, Patsy called me. Patsy was the lesbian extraordinaire of Orlando back then. Everybody wanted to date her, but she selected her escorts, dates, and lovers judiciously. Her method of operation was to ask one woman to take her to the dance club, then go home with someone else, all the while dancing with many others in between. Everyone knew that was how Patsy worked, and apparently no one cared. I figured she’d never be attracted to me since she could have anyone she wanted, so I didn’t play those games with her. As a result, we had an easy friendship. During this bout of laryngitis, Patsy called me for something, but she was apparently attracted to the deep raspy sound of my voice. She asked me to take her to the club that night. Me! I had not intended to go out because I was so sick, but this was Patsy! And I was the one she asked! YES! My turn! Laryngitis be damned!
I arrived at Patsy’s condo at the appointed time and knocked. She opened the door and kissed me lightly. She took my hand and led me to her living room. I’d heard about her set-up but could never have anticipated this. The living room walls were floor-to-ceiling mirrors, with candles strategically placed around the room, glowing softly. Patsy sat me down on the white leather couch, no words spoken. On the coffee table were two glasses of wine and two marijuana joints. Patsy leaned over to kiss me. I quickly surveyed the situation: I’m sitting on a white leather couch with Patsy who already scares me. The reflecting candlelight made it all look surreal. I was sick as a dog. I don’t smoke pot! I panicked! I slugged down the wine and bolted for the door! I could hear Patsy cackle as I ran out, back to my apartment and the safety of my bed, snuggly under the covers. I saw Patsy often after that episode. She graciously never mentioned it to me or to anyone, her trademark.
Shortly after the non-evening with Patsy, someone loaned a book to me, not about sexual training but a book of lesbian poetry. I don’t remember the book’s name, but there was a poem in it called How to Make Love to a Woman if You’re a Woman. The poem said something like, “Know what you like, then do that.” I didn’t know what I liked. I got a copy of JoAnn Loulan’s Lesbian Passion: Loving Ourselves and Each Other. That did it! Maybe I wasn’t as proficient as Eileen, but I developed enough of a fun technique that women seemed to enjoy.
~~~~~
If Patsy was the woman most desired among Orlando lesbians, Cheri Goyette was the lesbian ring leader. Her house was home-base for many lesbians in the Orlando area, it seemed, and Cheri often provided me and many others a place to stay when we needed it. She was incredibly opinionated and highly animated but amazingly generous. She had a gruff demeanor and was strong as a friggin’ ox.
I remember the second time I saw Cheri, the first being at that NOW meeting. It was at the Parliament House club in Orlando. She always had an entourage, and walked with a swagger that
As Eileen began to work on me, I quickly realized that she was about to do things that seemed awfully risqué, and risky! I don’t think I’d gotten to that chapter in The Joy of Lesbian Sex! Some of her, uh, techniques just did not seem joyful to me at all! I did the only thing that made sense to me. I left! Actually, I ran out of Eileen’s house, carrying more of my clothes than what I was wearing, and high-tailed it right back to my apartment. So much for my sex lessons. I was left to my own devices and novice explorations, illusions of lesbian sexual grandeur shot to hell.
Another time, several months later, after Patsy and Dawn broke up, and during a time when I had a whopping case of laryngitis, Patsy called me. Patsy was the lesbian extraordinaire of Orlando back then. Everybody wanted to date her, but she selected her escorts, dates, and lovers judiciously. Her method of operation was to ask one woman to take her to the dance club, then go home with someone else, all the while dancing with many others in between. Everyone knew that was how Patsy worked, and apparently no one cared. I figured she’d never be attracted to me since she could have anyone she wanted, so I didn’t play those games with her. As a result, we had an easy friendship. During this bout of laryngitis, Patsy called me for something, but she was apparently attracted to the deep raspy sound of my voice. She asked me to take her to the club that night. Me! I had not intended to go out because I was so sick, but this was Patsy! And I was the one she asked! YES! My turn! Laryngitis be damned!
I arrived at Patsy’s condo at the appointed time and knocked. She opened the door and kissed me lightly. She took my hand and led me to her living room. I’d heard about her set-up but could never have anticipated this. The living room walls were floor-to-ceiling mirrors, with candles strategically placed around the room, glowing softly. Patsy sat me down on the white leather couch, no words spoken. On the coffee table were two glasses of wine and two marijuana joints. Patsy leaned over to kiss me. I quickly surveyed the situation: I’m sitting on a white leather couch with Patsy who already scares me. The reflecting candlelight made it all look surreal. I was sick as a dog. I don’t smoke pot! I panicked! I slugged down the wine and bolted for the door! I could hear Patsy cackle as I ran out, back to my apartment and the safety of my bed, snuggly under the covers. I saw Patsy often after that episode. She graciously never mentioned it to me or to anyone, her trademark.
Shortly after the non-evening with Patsy, someone loaned a book to me, not about sexual training but a book of lesbian poetry. I don’t remember the book’s name, but there was a poem in it called How to Make Love to a Woman if You’re a Woman. The poem said something like, “Know what you like, then do that.” I didn’t know what I liked. I got a copy of JoAnn Loulan’s Lesbian Passion: Loving Ourselves and Each Other. That did it! Maybe I wasn’t as proficient as Eileen, but I developed enough of a fun technique that women seemed to enjoy.
~~~~~
If Patsy was the woman most desired among Orlando lesbians, Cheri Goyette was the lesbian ring leader. Her house was home-base for many lesbians in the Orlando area, it seemed, and Cheri often provided me and many others a place to stay when we needed it. She was incredibly opinionated and highly animated but amazingly generous. She had a gruff demeanor and was strong as a friggin’ ox.
I remember the second time I saw Cheri, the first being at that NOW meeting. It was at the Parliament House club in Orlando. She always had an entourage, and walked with a swagger that
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