Chapter 2: The Garden of Unearthly Delights

The Korked Wine bar is not a gay or lesbian bar per se, but there is a small sign just above the front entrance, ‘Leave all of your prejudices here and collected them on your way out.’ And in the four corners of the main window, you will see 4 rainbows. Ashley Taylor or Swifty as she was referred to, was the owner, barkeep and general all-round good ‘guy’. Except she wasn’t a guy. She and her long term business partner, Ellie, who was her lover, the mother of their daughter and her wife, had been together for close to 30 years. She was also known as the chief cook and bottle washer and whenever anyone become too obnoxious or drank more than they were capable of handling, she acted as the door person and taxi cab hailer.

I can never remember Ellie having to actually throw someone out, maybe it was the wall plaques and the Olympic Gold Medal framed on the wall, plus the many photos of her with high profile performers. She in fact acted as a Personal Protection Officer for most international music acts and performers that toured Australia in her younger days. It was rumoured that Mick Jagger won’t tour Australia unless she is available. A safe place for a group of more mature citizens to share a bottle of good Australian wine, or two or three bottles more likely. The fact these older women, were also gay, didn’t seem to bother anyone else there.

At seven o’clock on a Friday night we old girls gather for a friendly chat, a small group of us, have become a bit of an institution there. We don’t cause trouble, well not a lot of trouble, but we have been known to be told to behave, or was it ‘act your age’.

Korked is located in an L shaped building, with the little leg of the L becoming ‘ours’ and is also close to both the beer garden out the back and the conveniences. This means over the course of the evening we get to see nearly all of the female patrons come and go. It isn’t uncommon for our group to grow from 5 or 6 to over a dozen by closing time. Many cheeky girls have lost their panties to one of us. And to be taken into the garden, which we renamed the ‘Garden of Unearthly Delights’, it was said it was an experience that many remembered and returned only on a Friday night to relive their experience.

There the names were etched into the tables in the garden, and they were the women who claimed to be ‘straight’ but found out they were ‘spaghetti’ women. That Friday night was no different. The same old girls turned up, some with a partner in tow. Normally a pretty younger lady, it seems we all had similar tastes when it came to women. We liked them younger, pretty and well developed. Not all of us but most of us.

We were at the table and chatting away, when Erica arrived, on her own, I did the introductions. There was Caroline, with her exotic French accent, or was it Dutch, maybe she was from Belgium. Ann the policewoman by day and a keeper of the peace when with us, Judith and Jane, with Jenifer sitting at the head of the table or was it the foot. We kept switching the name depending on who was sitting there.

We weren’t known as the OWLS then, no, that came later.

Erica nodded as I went around the table. I reminded everyone that she was my guest and to behave themselves. Which was cryptic for not taking her into the garden and relieving her of her panties. There was no way she would remember everyone’s name but at least she could hold a conversation with whomever she chooses. She could be herself. She sat next to me and I gave her a kiss one on each cheek, as friends would do and patted her arm. I excused myself to get her a glass and a bottle of Penfolds 2019 Kalimna Shiraz Bin 28. Not asking what she wanted to drink.