Bon jour from Montréal. I've made my share of mistakes in my life, but the one time I slept with a woman was not one. She was from the American South, and we were best friends. I was openly gay, so she knew. She hosted a party here while a nursing student at McGill. The party highlighted New Orleans cuisine and I sampled bourbon for the first time, with extraordinary enthusiasm. . .
The food was great. You can see where this is going.
I was "resting" on her bed when she came to check on me. I think the intent was concern. But her nursely bedside manner was amazingly encouraging.
We laughed all the way through it, both surprised, perhaps shocked.
I am still gay and married to a guy now. She is also married to a guy, who has never been told what happened because they decided early on never to discuss previous liaisons. My guy thinks it's the funniest thing ever. She and I remain best friends and laugh all the time, although we never talk about that night.
The experience affected our lives in that we grew even closer as we understood more about one another and ourselves. But I've not touched bourbon since.