Tonight, I was sorely disappointed. I should probably start this out by acknowledging that Melissa is bisexual. This has never presented any obstacles because she is monogamous, unlike most men's visions of hot-blooded bi-girls who will bed anything and everything, especially on late-night cable. She has never hidden this fact from me, and I have never had an issue with it.

Tonight, however, we were invited to a cookout at a local bar, cleverly titled "The L Word," since none of the lesbians in Columbia seem to have a creative bone (no pun intended) in their bodies. If I seem to be taking a harsh approach, just stick with me and you'll see why. I knew from step one that I, as a heterosexual male, would be out of place. I assumed that these people would be understanding and welcoming, since they are used to being ostracized. I was planning on showing up and demonstrating that I was a very forward-thinking straight guy who could hang out and have a few drinks and be friends with everyone. I could not have been more wrong.

I was introduced to two gay men right off of the bat. They were both very friendly and accepting and offered to bring me a plate of food. Nothing untowards, just genuinely nice people. It wasn't until I had to thread my way past the lesbian bikers and into the bar that I sensed what I was up against. One lady who was playing pool immediately warned me that I would "be skewered" if I didn't move. She poked her pool cue towards me in a manner that left no doubt that she planned on prodding me with it.

I followed Melissa to the bar to see her friend who works there. Melissa ordered a drink, and I was about to, when I felt something poking me rather insistently in my nether regions. Sure enough, it was that old lesbian woman, making a point to poke me, when she didn't even have a shot to take. I tried to smile and laugh it off, to show that I was an okay guy, until she did it repeatedly. At that point I cancelled my drink order and informed Melissa I would be waiting outside. I was quickly approaching my boiling point, and didn't want to make the news as the straight guy who committed some hate crime, when I would have much more quickly laid out any guy who pulled a similar stunt. She just wasn't worth my time or effort.

I went back outside to watch Melissa enjoy her wine while I watched my back to make sure nothing stupid happened. Keep in mind, I was trying to be friendly and open-minded. While I knew that I was a straight guy in a lesbian bar, I didn't see how that was much different than when my lesbian friend Sara comes to visit me at the Village Idiot. No one cares, and we all have fun.

Flip side of the coin: Straight guy in Columbia dares to show up at The L Word. Everyone hates him, assuming that I am there to take all of the women back to some sort of hetero-style concentration camps to learn how to love a penis. Here's a hint, ladies (and I use that term loosely): I don't care. Really, you can be gay, straight or bi. As long as your life choices do not impact me in a negative fashion, I will stand behind your right to perform whatever acts on whomevers sexual organs that make you whistle Dixie. Not an issue with me.

Just don't make it a point to be angry at me because I have a penis and appreciate the female form. I'm sorry if I snatched up the hot chick at your bar. In all fairness, I knew her first.

What really makes me the saddest is that I know Melissa enjoys hanging out with her bartending friend there. I was hoping to be able to spend some time there, both to get to know her friend, and just see more of Melissa, since our jobs keep us apart. This is not to be, as I will never, ever, step another foot onto this property, or spend so much as a penny at the bar. My free time is too precious to be spent where I'm not welcome, I just wish it could have been different, since one of Melissa's best friends bartends there.

JT out.