They Think It's All Over

It’s Tuesday. That’s blog night. It’s also the night after all my exams, and like any proper dyke I marked this by watching a football match in a pub and eyeing up any potential talent that came in the door. This of course means I missed 3 out of the 4 goals in England’s 2 all draw with Sweden, not that I mind that much. It was a pretty good game – even if most goals seemed more fluke (that seems to be the way with most sport to me).

Like any self-respecting dyke I try my best to act football-savvy, throwing in the odd international player name for good measure. I must admit my knowledge of football is generally quite limited to what the Internet tells me. Although, more by chance than anything, my fantasy football team is performing quite well.

So aside from trying desperately to act like I know the difference between Ronaldo and Ronaldinho (it gets more difficult the more drinks I have), I was watching the talent. Football night is full of boozy men, their disgruntled wives, and dykes.

The disgruntled wives form vague (if not old) eye candy, and the dykes provide something to make knowing eyes at during the slow motion replays. Plus the half time visit to the toilets is a bit of a squeeze.

I can’t help wondering if the rest of the lesbians in the pub, and in pubs across the country are feigning interest like me. If they were, would they admit it. And if they admitted it, could we just get over the formalities?