A Week on Feeld with…a 36-year-old pansexual comedian

When it comes to your deepest desires, we have a recommendation: spit them out (a terrifying suggestion, to be sure). 

For courage, we like to  see how others spit out their desires—and no one puts on a show like  comedians. If to swallow our desires down is human and to spit them out is divine, then this week on Feeld is our dedication to all things divine and comedic.

And for a more literal Week on Feeld, we have Lola, a 36-year-old pansexual comedian and writer on a sabbatical back home in Chicago from Brooklyn.

Sunday 

Well! I’m back in my hometown and newly single, feeling a disorienting combination of novelty and nostalgia. Until a few months ago, I’d spent seven years living in Brooklyn and the past two in an increasingly traditional, suddenly long-distance relationship with an amazing man who saw me performing at a comedy show and slid in my Twitter DMs. We started as a laughably Brooklyn couple, an artist and an academic in an open relationship, but after health issues and a writers’ strike brought me back to Chicago, it devolved into the nearly sexless monogamous dynamic that I’ve seen many women atrophied by. Not on my watch! 

“Yes, and” is the first rule of comedy (accepting your current scenario, following the thread that interests you most, and expanding upon it). I’ve decided to apply it to my sex life. My ex and I still have a strong connection, but I miss being subby with my primary partner and though our caretaker/spoiled girlfriend…thing had its moments, that just wasn’t our dynamic! I dated a few switchy folks in Brooklyn but, post-break up, I want something fun and steamy with a real Dom’s Dom. After hosting a comedy show for Feeld recently, where I met lots of open-minded—and really hot—folks, I’m ready to check out the app to see who else is out there ready to go for exactly what they want. 

I connect with Li, a gal who looks a lot like me—a curvy, smiley woman of color making bold sartorial choices—and am reminded of that old Tumblr stereotype about Twin Gays. But I also miss being involved with other women. Nevertheless, she persisted. Li steers our conversation and I’m excited about this feeling I forgot I used to love.

Monday

I usually check my horoscope randomly every few months OR when I want to feel enabled to make a decision I’ve been waffling on. It’s a great way to feel like I’m putting my mind in the backseat and letting someone else drive. Did I mention I miss having a Dom? 

Today’s forecast: “Open your eyes to the appeal of unexpected prospects.” And it goes on to compare mediocre dates to kissing frogs in the name of taking chances.

I’m braiding a friend’s hair for her birthday. It’s a lengthy, intimate process. The conversation inevitably drifts to our sex lives. She’s having a good time on some apps, meeting fun people, and has connected with a couple Feeld members. I tend to meet a lot of people performing several nights a week, and though I’ve had luck with mutual physical attraction meeting people this way, the chemistry usually stops there. Maybe connecting on Feeld will be different…

My phone is distracting me from the braids. A friend I’ve run into at events since I’ve been back in Chicago hit on me at the Feeld comedy show days after I’d heard from a mutual friend of ours that she was interested in me. She wrote a message—and her number—in the notebook I’d scribbled my setlist in that night. It all felt very cute and analog, especially for an event for a dating app. We’ve been texting ever since. She’s just gone through a breakup more recent than mine and is taking what was supposed to be a couples’ trip solo. We commiserate and make plans to get drinks when she’s back in town. I tell her about a date I’ve got later this week. She tells me she’s going to try to have a fling while she’s away—and admits she wishes my date were with her. 

An artist I used to have a crush on in Brooklyn randomly DMs me (I’d been posting thirst traps for exactly this reason) telling me he’ll be visiting Chicago. I’m “Yes, and”-ing like I said I would and we make plans that feel hypothetical—but I’m really attracted to him, enjoying the banter, and remembering my horoscope.

I finally finish the braids—blonde & thigh length. My friend is so happy with her look and is going to SLAY for her birthday trip! I tell her I’m going to try Feeld again when she leaves… and almost immediately connect with a Dom who’s built like a sequoia tree. What really caught my attention was the “consensual manhandling” mentioned on his profile. 

Tuesday

At the end of the summer, a couple weeks after my breakup, I got together with some old friends I haven’t seen in forever. I needed to have a great night with people I love. Being back in Chicago has been great for that. I spotted someone checking me out that night, but I wasn’t in a flirty space so, even though he was (one of) my type(s), it washed right over me. He found me on socials a few days later though, asked me out for drinks, and the rest is kind of history. I was looking for passion and sexual chemistry and I found it! (My groupchat calls him Mr. 27…because he’s 27. Very creative!)

Anyway, he’s been visiting his hometown for the past couple weeks and returns tomorrow. Catching up quickly turns to sexting. And ours is the best sex I’ve had in a while. So much so that after a night of performing and flirting with people—even after all the kinetically horny energy at the Feeld show earlier this month—I mostly look forward to seeing him and directing all those stray sex vibes his way. He misses me and wants to show me how much. Same. After my show Saturday?

Wednesday

Swiping on Feeld in your hometown—even one as big as Chicago—starts to resemble a reunion episode after a while. But it’s interesting running into people I’ve known forever and seeing what they’re REALLY into. Compounding that, two old flings have heard I’m back in town and gotten in touch. None of this is bad, it’s just becoming A THING. I’m “Yes, and”-ing, though, and both tell me in their own ways what “catching up” and “coming to check out one of my shows” really means. I’m flattered, but my dance card is kind of full right now, and I have ADHD.

The writers’ strike is also over, so my mind is on returning to New York. I need to prepare for meetings with production companies next week, to revise my first pilot, and outline my second. I have shows coming up. I decide to work at a cafe with a cute happy hour—and put on a nicer outfit than I need to because there’s usually other people there being conspicuously creative and we’ve all been people-watching and eye-fucking each other.

Thursday

I’m glad I’m still friends with my ex. He texts me to check the mail and there’s a package with some vintage tees he bought for me in Brooklyn, a really cute black cropped denim jacket, and my snakeskin boots I’d forgotten I’d left at his place before I moved. Along with a message that I can use his credit card whenever I want even though we’re not together. I’ll probably always love this man and I hope he’s happy.

I go to brunch with some old comedy friends and have so much fun catching up I’m late for a podcast I’m supposed to be recording later in the afternoon. There’s not enough time to record before we have to leave for each of our shows that evening, but the host is very chill about the whole thing and smokes me out while we chat. We’re both comedians and I don’t typically engage with fellow practitioners of the dark arts (a rule I’ve been breaking lately), but he’s really attractive so I’m being flirty off the record. We reschedule the recording for next weekend.

I carry that energy over to the show and load my setlist up with jokes about sex. The audience is diverse and energetic, I’m wearing a catsuit and feeling hot, and definitely treating this set like an IRL Feeld profile. All the material about being a quirky, feminist, sub was a little obvious but I wasn’t in the mood for subtlety…and neither was the silver fox I spent the rest of the show flirting with who immediately told me he was in the D/s lifestyle and asked for my number. “Yes, and”…

Friday

I’ve been texting the manager of a club I performed at a couple months ago. He’s very pretty—and I love a pretty man. Eyelashes for days. Something old-timey about his face— and he looks like he could easily pick me up. He hasn’t seen me since the weekend we met and is ready to remedy that. Me too. We make plans to meet at my show tomorrow and get food after. He’s the first person I’ve met in a while and instantly felt THAT THING…that thing when you lock eyes and your brain just drifts into fantasies. 

I’d been in a bad mood that weekend because of logistical issues with the venue and he was so accommodating and helpful getting everything sorted out; it bordered on what Jane Austen would call “doting.” This was shortly after my breakup and I was reminded of my ex’s caretaker energy. But the venue manager was giving off Service Top/Pleasure Dom vibes and my imagination was going wild. I didn’t have to imagine for long though because he’s direct and asked me out before my run at the club was over. 

Excited to see him tomorrow. My friend checks in from her solo couples’ trip and asks if I’m excited for my date Saturday. I think to myself…which one?

Saturday

There’s a lunar eclipse and I don’t check what my horoscope has to say about it. But people at the comedy show keep bringing it up so I’m forced to consider its effects. Especially when the hottie manager I was so excited to see and had been fantasizing about ends up having more of a cousin vibe. We had a couple drinks, left to get sushi, and then he realized he left his card at the show. We went back to the comedy club to get it, then to a bar. At the bar, I realized I left my check at the club. We find ourselves there a third time, at which point he realizes he left his bag at the bar. And after an okay makeout parting ways, I realized I’d lost my wallet at some point in the twists and turns of the night. My mind was elsewhere, but I blame the eclipse.

The night is still young and I miss Mr. 27. Like we’d planned, we meet at his show that night. Passing touches in public feel electric. This is what I’d been waiting for all week. At a bar around the corner, he tells me everything he wants to do to me when we’re back at his place. Suddenly I’m feeling extra subby and I show him how much I miss him once we’re there— and I showed myself how much I miss feeling intense sexual chemistry and passion. 

Next week I’ll be busier with meetings and getting my writing samples post-strike ready on top of a handful of shows to occupy my time, but this week has been a great reminder that I enjoy being as open in my personal life as I am with my professional creativity. And I intend to “Yes, and” the good vibes, wherever they take me.