So, his name was Simon and he was an estate agent. I know it doesn't sound promising, but we were in bed within half an hour of meeting, so *shrugs*.
Charming, naive lad from Yorkshire, who was moving to Fife and getting a new job as an estate agent. And a new sexuality.
You see, he was wrestling with whether or not he was gay, straight, or bisexual. But wonderfully, he was determined to experiment with his gay side. A lot.
Eventually, we left the hotel room, and went out to introduce him to gay clubbing. At which point I realised that this charming, innocent man was, at heart, still a straight lad. He drank straight (ie, immediately into an excited stupor), and, oh my goodness, he danced straight. I forgot that straight men dance like mouse traps have been sprung on their fingers.
The advantage of this was that, for once, I could dance my patented Disco Flail (TM) without notice, as a crowd was forming around Break Beat Boy. The gays were curious ("It looks pretty... but... it can't be one of ours...") and the fag hags were ravenous ("Surely, surely one we can have at last!").
By this point, Simon was, it has to be said, looking rather fine and getting a lot of attention. I'd tried to explain to him that a bit of ambivalence is a massive turn on in the gay scene - after all, all gays like to think they've bagged a straight boy, and all women in a gay bar really want to take a pretty boy home. Pause. That Crude Generalisation was sponsored by the Send-The-Funny-Speaking-People-Home Party.
The thing is, Simon was not just drunk - he was making himself available. He'd whirl, by, grab me, drink a bit, and then vanish into the dance floor, dirty dance with a giggling lady, snog her for a bit, and then run laughing back to get off with me. All rather funny. Until one of the girls burst into tears.
I took Simon home after this. At which point his Emergency Self-Questioning kicked in, and, instead of being up all night having marvellous sex, we spent three hours rowing drunkenly as he kept shouting "But why man? Why am I snogging girls? What about the men? Do you fancy me? Do you really?" and I kept on muttering "Look, it's fine - be what you want to be, be happy, try not to hurt people, and for pity's sake, go to sleep and give us back some duvet."
Sparkling Cyanide (1945)
1 year ago