Parmacist

year 2000 and traveled around

Europe a lot. I benefited from
travel case because I lived in
Regensburg, conveniently located
pretty close to the center of the conti-
nent. On the first weekend we got
there, some of the kids on my study
abroad group and I went to Prague in
the Czech Republic.

Only four hours away by
train, we spent a frozen weekend
nervously practicing our German
skills and getting our first taste of
European travel. I ended up back-
packing through many countries,
making it as far west as Morocco and
as far east as Turkey, visiting most of
Southern Europe in the meantime.

Lots happened and I have
fun stories about trying to camp in a
downpour with only a mummy sleep-
ing bag to share between two people,
or about language confusion in Italy

llived in southern Germany in the

- while I tried to ask an elderly woman

in Spanish with Italian inflections
where I could find an ATM. It is

 

who said “Dietrich” like “Deaytrix,”
but, maybe because it didn’t come up
much, it wasn’t ever a cause of major
action. .

Sex, though, is the basis
for one of my most embarrassing
moments outside of the country.
Now, I have to fess up: it was
straight sex. After getting my heart
ripped out by that very same travel
companion, I dated an American
woman I met in Greece who came
and stayed with me in Gemlany for a
while. Now, she was a feminist and
had short hair, but she wasn’t a boy
or a dyke.

She and I went to Poland,
where I got a crash course in phar-
macy etiquette and Polish when we
got there and wanted lubricant. This
is where the story might as well be
gay, and to be honest, I have some-
times recounted it and left out the
fact that I was with a woman at the
time. Here, though, in the pages of
Out in the Mountains, I will be truth-
ful about the episode.

We arrived early in the
morning and went out lube

v shopping before we could
check into the hotel.

impossible to log that many miles
with only one or two people as com-
panions and not have experienced too
much to even remember.

My best story probably
involved losing all of my belongings
on a beach in Italy, but I realized,
when Euan told me this issue would
be travel-centered, that only very few
of my stories from my time abroad
are gay. My friend and I went to gay
clubs and bars, and even thought we
were qualified to author a guidebook
for gay vegetarians in Europe, but
nothing extraordinarily funny, scary,
exciting, or weird happened because
we were queers.

Sure, I remember certain
gayness from the trip fondly, espe-
cially a cute bartender in Barcelona

We arrived early in the
morning and went out lube shopping
before we could check into the hotel.
Pharmacies in Europe present the
horrible challenge of being more like
the prescription drug counter at an
American drug store — everything is
behind glass or in a back room and

‘needs to be retrieved by the person

working behind the counter.

I went into the first one and
knew right away I was in for trouble.
I didn’t see one thing displayed
behind the counter I could point to. I
was even too nervous to ask in
English at the counter. I had to go
back outside and work myself up to
move on to the next one.

There the setup was slight-
ly less intimidating and I was the

 

Sooling a Polish

only customer. I went up and asked,
in English, if they had any lube. The
woman gave a blank stare. I asked in
German, which she understood better
than in English, but still‘didri’t know
what lubricant was. Before I could
think of anything else, she called one

“of her colleagues out, a man in his

twenties who understood English
better. I asked him again, but he had
no idea what I wanted. He asked me
to explain it to him, and although his
age and beauty were encouraging, I
just couldn’t describe the function of
lubricant as the middle-aged woman
looked at me.

I left the second pharmacy
empty-handed again and went back
to my lady friend, hoping she didn’t
see my failure as a reflection on my
attractiveness. We walked to a third
pharmacy and I, embittered by both
the fact that she waited outside in the
embarrassment-free Polish air and
that I had already tried twice, decid-
ed I would not leave without
lubricant.

I pulled my old ask-in-
English—then-German trick and got
the same response. I looked around
the store and saw a box with a pic-
ture of a woman in a gauzy night-
gown sitting on the beach. It was
labeled “Intima” and I knew it was
my only choice. I said “Iritima,” hop-
ing that although I had probably just
asked for the name of a douche, she
would put two and two together and
get me the goods.

She smiled and said, yes,
then the German word for condoms.
No, I said, and gave an exasperated
look that evidently translated into:
“kind of like condoms —— damn it, I
was so close, come on, it’s what you
use with condoms, please!” She
brought out a little box of good ol’
American KY. Classic straight-peo-
ple lube.

Elated, I felt as if I’d won
the battle, conquered a new country
and language on the basis of locating
lube. She was about to hand it to me
when she paused, cocked one eye-
brow, leaned over the counter and
said, questioning me: “For a
woman?” Her creepy intonation
frightened me, and I suddenly real-
ized she knew I was gay. I smiled a
little, not understanding how to feel
about it. It was for a woman, but
assenting to her seemed too much
like self-denial. I mumbled thank you
and took the lube, pleased that she
might think it was for another
man. V

Joel Nichols is temporarily gracing
Brandon with his presence prior to
more European travel.

Caws

continued from preceding page

many friends and am quite happy.
She says she understands. When she
separated from her husband she had
many more friends. Now that she’s
back with him, she spends most of
her time with just him. She finds that
isolating. I eventually end up accept-
ing her offer to sit three in a seat.
“Towards the end of the

trip I decide I’m feeling survivor’s
guilt. I read about Lepa [a woman at
the peace conference from Belgrade]
in Off Our Backs [Washington, DC-
based monthly feminist news journal]
and think what am I doing, really, to
alleviate the suffering of women in
warring countries? How do I help out
my Israeli friend who remains stuck
in her tiny, noise-polluted apartment
once more caught in an emotionally
unsatisfying if not abusive relation-
ship? How do I find Dorit the help

she needs to climb out or her deep
depression?

“What do I do in
Burlington to raise the consciousness
of the Lefties around Middle-East
peace without feeding into anti-
Semitism? I’m thinking too hard. I
just need to take time to cry about all
the pain in the world.” 7

Crow Cohen is a lesbian feminist
who lives in Burlington.

 

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Injury. other litigation and mediation.

 

Elizabeth C. Campbell, CPA, PC

Certified Public’ Accountants

'15 East Washington Street, Rutland 05701

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Tax specialists serving individuals

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Thanks. for’ 
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8

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82 Church St.,
sliding fee scale

' Leah Wittenberg

Licensed Mental Health Counselor

Burlington

Psychotherapy for individuals and couples

(802)658-9590 ext.4