Dear Lesbians: Please Don’t Make Me Drink Any More Tea

Why do so many lesbian dates involve tea and why is it always at their freezing cold apartment (because they’re either “thrifty” or “part-abominable-snowman”) and they say they’re going to “put on some hot water” and would I like some and then they open their cabinet where literally 80 boxes, canisters and Ziploc bags of tea cascade out and they list every single kind and my eyes glaze over because I literally don’t give a fuck about tea so I point and shrug at the box with the cute bear and turns out it’s empty so I have to choose another box with a different bear and then we wait around for the kettle to boil and they hand me a mug they made freshman year in pottery class and it’s always brown and has no handles and the water is 10,000 Kelvins so I’m dangling the mug by the rim with my fingertips and we walk with our flaming mugs of bear liquid to the sofa and I have to figure out how to sit down without scalding myself and then I’m wondering how long to let it steep and where do I put the tea bag so I follow their cue and try and make conversation and appear relaxed while thinking about how I CANNOT spill this lava-esque tea and they always say “you look uncomfortable” and I’m like “Ha ha! No, maybe just a bit chilly” to try and deflect attention from the real problem: tea.

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