Unseen Side Effects (Futa, romance, invisibility)

Unseen Side Affects, part 1

by Dave

https://pastebin.com/ZXxxFLyY

“Its hopeless” Zoey gasped and flopped her head into her folded arms on the bar.

Rhonda rolled her eyes and continued to wash the glasses. It was Tuesday afternoon at the Kitty Cat Club , the self-proclaimed third best lesbian bar in Southern California. It had once actually been a great club, the tag line being and ironic in joke. It still was the third best, but only because the greater metro area had only three lesbian bars left. But it had one major competitive advantage over it's competitors: It opened at 10 am.

Rhonda continued cleaning a glass and smirked an unsympathetic smirk. “I'll get the microscope and find my tiny violin” She snorted as she set the now dry glass on a shelf and grabbed another wet one out of the sink.

“Its like I'm invisible.” Zoey mumbled into her forearms “Girls don't believe that I'm into them, wont accept that I'm not! If I could wear my gold star where the girls could see it, I would.”

Rhonda cocked an eyebrow at this. For some reason, some women where proud of the fact that they had never been intimate with a man. She had been married to a man for two years before coming out, and was sort of irked that never having handled a dick was seen as some sort of high achievement.

But she knew that the job of the bartender was listen and not judge

Rhonda took the class from third mimosa before noon and set it aside to be washed.

“Well... at the risk of not sounding inclusive, you could possibly try to look like one of us. I have a pride button you can have and you might want a shorter haircut.”

Zoey shot Rhonda a dirty look. She began a conversion she had had so may times that she could recite it word for word. “Not you, too. Look, just because I like dresses and shoes and girly things doesn't mean I don't like pussy. If you think about it, pussy is the most girly thing someone can like. Besides, I sell houses for a living. There’s a very specific ‘look’ you need to work in realty. Mohawks and bib overalls aren’t in the uniform. Now, if I was a bartender...”

Zoey was not know for her modesty, but nor was she a liar. Most people considered her very attractive, as did she. She took care to dress well and kept her long brown hair stylishly coiffed. She was a bit on the short side, but slender and athletic. She dressed conservatively and often wore heels to make up for the height that nature had not provided. She didn't know if it helped close real estate deals, but telling herself that was better than admitting vanity. She had a smile that could light up a room, and graced both her bushiness cards and the two billboards she rented to drum up work.

Rhonda had been a bartender for a long time. She had come to know when a grousing customer was genuinely asking for advice and when they where just venting. Rhonda knew that this was firmly in the latter category. But if she didn't intervene, she would have to eject a drunk before lunchtime.

“I'll tell you what. You think women don’t notice you?”

Zoey’s head was back against the bar. She moaned, but the inflection clearly meant ‘yes.’

“You think people just see right through you?”

Zoey repeated her moan.

“I have an acquaintance that has the same problem as you. No one can see her, either. I’ll give her your number and you can both complain about how you're too pretty for girls to notice.”

Zoey lifted her head and let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, have her give me a call. Can I get another drink?”

“Only if it’s coffee.”

Two days later, Zoey's phone rang. She didn't recognize the number, so she let it go to voicemail. Her phone beeped, indicating that a message had, in fact, been left. She listened, expecting yet another scam, loan solicitation or timeshare sales pitch.

She was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't.

“Hi there, My name is Alexa. Rhonda from the Kitty Cat Club gave me your number. She thinks we should meet up. I think that sounds great. Call me back at this number. It’s my cell. Bye.”

Zoey dialed back as fast as she could. She had actually forgotten that Rhonda said she would do this, but was thankful that she actually had.

After two rings, Alexa picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Zoey. You just called me. Rhonda gave you my number.”

“Oh, hi! I’m Alexa Meeks! Rhonda says you have a bad case of femme invisibility. I know a thing or

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