Q: How does a woman who doesn't realize she's a lesbian, woo another woman who doesn't realize she's attracted to women either? Or how does a presumably straight woman entice another presumably straight woman?
A: Just like any woo-ing, it's all about the humor. We all know that laughter is the predecessor to love, regardless of gender and sexuality.
Early in our relationship, before the fateful first kiss, all I knew is that I wanted her to look at me, talk to me, laugh at my jokes. Her laughter, you guys! It was like the best buzz on earth, making her smile and laugh at me.
It was a few weeks in that I finally realized how big basketball is/was in her life. She had played all through childhood. By high school, she was on traveling club teams in addition to her school team. She received multiple college offers and it paid her way through her bachelor's degree.
But I was in trouble with this realization. I had no basketball experience. I had very little sports ball experience in general! I seriously didn't even have enough basketball exposure to make stuff up! How was I going to worm my way into this amazing woman's heart?
Then I remembered, while I could get lost on a basketball court, I know how to tell a story. A damn good story. And lucky for me, I have just one amazing basketball story.
So when I was putting my husband through school at Brigham Young University (I was all done, the ink was barely dry on my degree from Arizona State), our apartment complex put together an intramural women's basketball team.
I have never ever played basketball. And I top out at a whopping 5'1". But why would I let that stop me??
So in my first game, I'm dribbling said ball, and this giant of a woman is hovering over me, and I'd like to take a shot at the net which is almost right above me. But this player guarding me isn't letting me move at all! So rude!! So I do what every determined woman would have done: I crawl through her legs and take the shot.
I actually make the basket so I think I just earned points!! I'm too busy celebrating to notice the laughing tears. The ref is laughing so hard he almost can't blow the whistle. Both teams are at a standstill, trying to breathe because they're laughing so hard. Everyone in the stands is leaning on each other, wiping away tears, laughing.
Finally, my husband has to walk over from the stands (possibly with tears in his eyes) and inform me that I actually traveled and I don't get the points. I wouldn't have believed him until the ref nodded, grateful he didn't have to say it. And finally, everyone stops laughing and play resumes. I was not the VIP. Wait. MVP.
I like to believe she fell in love with me the night I told her that story. Wouldn't you?
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