An amazing weekend…

In a lot of ways, sometimes I think things tend to happen exactly when you least expect them. Last weekend was a perfect example: I expected a fairly boring weekend with some friends coming from out-of-town. But it turned into a rather amazing weekend – and a long one!
It all started Thursday when I met with a business partner on Thursday, wo happened to be in London and asked me if I could go for a drink with him. While we work together, we had never physically met, and so this seemed a nice opportunity to put a face to the emails. I thought it was going to be a fairly straight forward business type meeting – but it turned out not only that he was gay (I did mention before that my gaydar is rather crap, didn’t I?), single – but also extremely good-looking. We got on like a house on fire really, and ever since then the emails between us have been pretty flirty. In fact, he invited me to come and visit him next weekend… so stay tuned for that one!

On Friday I went with a friend to a bar in Soho, where he met up with some other friends. One of the friends in the other groups was an amazing looking guy, very sporty and with dark hair and blue eyes (which I have to admit is something that makes me weak all the time!). Even more amazingly the guy started to speak to me almost as soon as we arrived, and didn’t move from my side for the entire evening. While I’m not usually the guy who goes home with a date the first night, this night I did, and I really did not regret it.
Although the guy is certainly not relationship material, just the fact that he hit on me made me fairly self-confident and really quite happy. Especially, as this was the second day in a row that somehow I got a little more attention than I thought I merited.

Actually, thinking of this, it is quite amazing how I’m on the one side scared of being rejected, but flattered by getting attention (even if I don’t want to take it any further). Quite a paradox.

The next evening I went with my out-of-town friends to Heaven (yeah, I know!). Again, I didn’t expect it to be any good – but I was very wrong: The music was really amazing and – yet again – a nice guy started to chat with me. We ended up dancing and chatting together until 5, and will probably see each other again this weekend.

Finally, on Monday I met with a really nice guy from a charity I work for. Again it seemed that sparks were flying – and we have been texting a lot over the last few days.
Of course, the funny thing is that at the start of the weekend, I expected it to be rather dull… but somehow I have been smiling ever since .

Photo by Mark A Jones.

How to approach Mr or Ms Right?

One of the biggest problems when out and about for me is not the lack of potential Mr Rights. In a city like London I come across literally hundreds of pople who seem nice every day – and even if only a fraction of them would be gay and interested in me, I would probably have more dates than I could ever imagine. But, and I guess I am not alone in this, the crucial point is that it is the first step that seems the hardest for me. Just being confident enough and starting to speak to total strangers and making a first connection where there is obviously no need to speak to them feels more embarrassing than telling my mother I have an STI.

I really admire people who have mastered this art form. Of course, if I am honest, then I think I am quite good at it as well – as long as I am truly not attracted to the other person. For example, if I meet a woman somewhere I have little trouble in talking to her. OK, if it is the first encounter, and if there is obviously no need to talk, then yes I do still find it strange to make the first step – but it is not something really terrible. Maybe typical of many gay men, this has resulted in a wide circle of really nice female friends,… yet, given the chance of speaking to the nicest guy in the universe, I will try and get out of there as fast as I can (and I will run out of conversation topics in two milliseconds!).

Recently, I have started to read the adventures of a fellow Londoner single guy(though he is not playing for “my” team ). And it is quite amazing just how much I find myself in again in his stories. He has started to be quite professional in his approach (with a traget number of women to speak to), and an amazing stamina when it comes to speaking to them – yet it makes some interesting reading when thinking about just how much the first few seconds terrorise men, gay or straight – and judging by his comments – women alike.

Date. Yes, I mean… a date!

After spending the last few weeks pretty much giving up the hope for anyone nice ever crossing my path,… I have to report: a date. Not exactly a perfect date – but a good start in my books (at least I don’t seem to miraculously scare people off!).

It came in the form of drinks with a French guy, who happens to live around the corner from me, and who asked me to have a drink with him in the local (straight) pub. It was rather nice, very civilised and really a lot like making a new friend. Which, of course is kind of where the problem lies for me: The evening went very much like a meeting with a friend, and then we said good bye and parted. While he is really nice, and we got on extremely well together, I am not sure how we would get on sexually. and I don’t mean that he is in any way unattractive, rather that I seem to have a mental devision between people who are either sexy (and therefore not really friend material), or friends (and whose pants are definitely off limits).

Of course, the jury is still out on this one, but even if never anything else happens, than it was a really nice and enjoyable evening – though I am really almost sure that at least (or should I say most importantly?) I have found a new local friend. And someone to have a drink with. Let’s see what happens…
After an evening like this, I do think, maybe I should just make the plunge more often, go on as many dates as possible – and who knows? – maybe the guy who is both sexy body and mind wise will be out there somewhere.

Photo by William van Dieten.

Going out- with the ex…

Ex-boyfriends are a funny species. Especially when they are fairly newly ex. While I am comfortable to go out with exs from a long time ago, I really get, in a funny way quite uncomfortable about meeting my immediate ex. It might be because I still have some secret feelings for him, or because I’m just not comfortable to openly flirt with other people while he is around.
This weekend, I met my ex for some drinks, and exactly that happened. We went to a club, and I got talking to someone who was absolutely the most handsome guy around. It turned out, we also had a lot of common interests, which made it really enjoyable.
The problem: How to proceed with the ex standing next to you? I had the choice, obviously, to either ignore my ex and just carry on with the new guy – or not going full steam ahead with the new guy.
In the end I chose the latter – and decided to leave fairly early with my ex, and no one else. And although I think it could have been really nice to go further with the new guy, somehow I feel that I am just not ready to jump as yet, or maybe it just wasn’t the right day – but somehow it was strange to make that choice. Especially, as I know that if my ex would not have been there, I know I would have had a lot more fun that night.

Photo by globalNix.

How long is single for too long?

Ever since I parted ways with my ex, I have actually quite enjoyed being single. Enjoying all the things I have never done while being in a relationship: I’m not talking about the things I couldn’t speak to my mother about, but I suddenly started to thoroughly enjoy having strange meals at 3 at night, leaving home at 10 to go for a drink, …you get the picture. But today one of my friends made a throw away remark about being single for too long – and maybe no longer relationship material.

Of course, I am not at a stage yet that I am truly panicking that I may be more comfortable with my own company than anybody else’s, nor do I think that I am not relationship material. But I have to admit, that I am starting to rather enjoy being alone quite a bit more than I originally thought.
Sure, before this split – after a rather long 8 years – I was something of a serial monogamist. At stages very serial, but definitely never without a significant other for more than two weeks or so. Now I am alone for two months, and that, at least for me is a remarkable record.
Does it feel strange? Well not really, in fact it feels better every day at the moment. And then who said I have to live with someone, spend my evenings with them and (lets be honest) enjoy great sex for the first few weeks, and pretty much nothing all the time after that. Maybe I should just simply sit back, and enjoy the feeling of ultimate freedom, of living alone and doing nothing else than what I really want to do. But then again, maybe on occasion, I just like to think that I can share this with someone. Even the strange foods I now ritually eat at night…

Photo by John and Leanne.

God save the Fag hags…

In a way it is strange: Yesterday I went with a (female) friend to G-A-Y, and it was full of …. women. Actually, I was as “guilty” as everyone there in turning a gay club into a hang out for women (and a few men, I should add). After all, just like many gay men,… I have a fag hag.

Although the term “fag hag” still conjures up images of a middle aged woman who hang out with gay men, nothing could be further from the truth. Many “fag hags” (including mine) are really drop dead gorgeous and, if I ever would consider turning straight, she would be everything I ever wanted. Also, she has a boyfriend, and has been together with him for a considerable time, although I still find that somewhat strange. Not that she has one, but rather that the boyfriend has no objections to her hanging out in a room with a lot of sweaty men dancing.

While dancing yesterday I was getting intrigued at the role fag hags can play when matchmaking. Because of my ex, I rarely have been out with her (or other women) alone for a long time. So yesterday, in a way, was a first – and it was, what can I say, an eye opener. We both met at a bar before and had drinks together. Then we moved on to the club, where, without hesitation she could easily speak to any guy around. Of course this made it perfectly easy to start chatting to the guys at the same time, but it did overcome the initial shyness (of which I have plenty!). This resulted in me having met two very nice guys in one night, which given my recent success rate is really pretty good. And yes, before you ask, I did leave with her and no-one else. But I do have two more telephone numbers…

The body, the body, the body…

During the last few days, I received three emails asking for body pics. Note, the emails were asking specifically for body shots – not face shots, nor did they relate to anything written in the blog. Are (gay) men really that body obsessed?

To be honest, it seems strange: On the one side many friends seem to love places that are explicitly not body obsessed. Take the example of the massively successful XXL club. The entire premise here is: If you spend more time worrying about how your body fat percentage is than having fun, you should not go. Of course, some people might say that that in turn is nothing but a type of body-obsession, just an inverted one to the one obsessed with young, slim, toned (and hairless) bodies.
Then we have the idea of the “musclemary” clubs – again usually coming from people who don’t fit the toned, slim and young stereotype. And who, of course would be very comfortable in XXL – though in reality seem to be hanging around the musclemarys all the time.
Maybe we should just face up to the fact, that for some things the body simply counts: It turns you on (or off), though of course (as with size), sometimes it is more important what you do with it.
For me, personally, I have a certain type I like, and yes, I am fairly happy with my body. Yes, sure, it could be better – but honestly, unless I really want to be guided by masterfully photoshopped pictures I guess I’m better of trying to like what I have. And concentrate on using it …

Being outside…

I know this blog is supposed to be about London – but then sometimes, being out of London can be part of being in London. In fact, I would say just by being outside at times and returning to the bustling streets of London can we really appreciate how great London is.

I spent last weekend with friends in Bournemouth, a charming city on the south coast of England. And while I totally enjoyed being away from London I couldn’t help but feel a great sense of relieve when I finally stepped back off the train in Waterloo.

While Bournemouth has all the charm of a small English town, a few gay bars (where everyone knows your name), and even, I have been told, a gay beach – it is still light years behind the freedom and choice we have as people (of any description) living in London. And while the tree lined streets, small high street and long beaches were lovely for a day, they simply can’t measure up with the freedom we have to do whatever we like here in the capital. Of course, I am not saying that I will never return, actually, I think it is lovely for a day – but I can say just how much I appreciate being back. And knowing that no matter what I think, I can now leave my computer and go to dozens of different bars, party the night away and make the choices I really want to make. And that is worth a lot more to me than the trees – and even than the lovely sandy beach.

Photoby Paula Bird Parent.