NYC Dating: Weaklings Need Not Apply

Sometimes what they say about lesbians bringing a U-Haul to the second date really is true.  My second date with “Sue” lasted an entire weekend.  We spent the first night at her place but relocated to mine the next day because a blizzard was starting and I needed to take the air conditioner out of my window before my room filled up with snow.  Anyone who has spent a summer in New York City knows how important air conditioners are.  Requesting her help with its removal was a sign of trust and desired intimacy.  I think we secretly had the same thought: Sue would dexterously remove the air conditioner and place it in my hallway closet, showing off her strong arm muscles and playing out our endearingly antiquated fantasy of an enduring butch-femme dichotomy. We chatted on my bed as she pushed at the frame, trying to free the air conditioner.  As old windows are wont to do, it remained stubbornly stuck until it was just as stubbornly unstuck.  It flew up in its frame and the air conditioner pitched forward, tearing its cord in half and leaving behind a useless and mildly hazardous band of bare, stripped wires still attached to the outlet.  Outside my window was a courtyard area that no one knows how to access, not even the superintendent (welcome to Brooklyn).  As we sat there watching the snow land lightly on that beloved metal appliance and the concrete around it, Sue uttered the words that told me she lacked the maturity, class and chivalry not only of a knight but of a decent adult:

“I…thought you had that.”