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.

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…

Out Alone – in a room full of men

I went out this last week. A lot. In fact, probably more than anytime during the last year. But to be honest,… going out isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Not because it isn’t fun going out (it is!), but actually because it seems strange: going out on my own makes me feel like I am the only single in the whole place. This is especially strange as I do remember from going out while being with my ex, that any gay place, no matter how trendy and cool was: Watch out for the single guys, ready for making a move.

But now it seems, I go to any place and I am the only one who is on the prowl. And I don’t mean I necessarily want to get laid there and then. A nice chat would do just as nicely – and no, I am not looking for Mr Perfect to have a conversation with. Of course, I know that I am not alone: My friend Andreas, a veritable master of statistical data, assures me that no other group is as crap at relationships as gay men are. Yet, at least for me, it seems like I am also crap at getting to know the other single people out there. Strangely enough, they seem to vanish as soon as I enter the room as a single (maybe there’s a message here?). And if there are some, then I can assure you they are out with their friends – and thus difficult to approach, if they want to be approached at all. So, for me self-doubt is creeping in – and that makes me rationalise everything that really I am totally happy being there alone. But truly, deeply, actually,… well, I am sure you know the game.
This then leads to another solution: Go where everyone is single, or at least out on the prowl. Nice idea again, but is it really a veritable solution? I tried it out by going to Fitlads, not because I consider myself as a veritable chav, but rather because it seemed like a fun place. I was wrong. It really is a club full of cruising boys with a large dark room attached. Nothing wrong with that, as I don’t want to become over-moralising or anything like that. But seriously: to me it seemed like human relations were no longer fashionable – unless they involved the exchange of bodily fluids in a dark corner. I realise I now sound like a middle aged, grumpy, old queen (yeah, life was better when I was young!), but to be honest I never felt so alone in a room full of people.

So, after an hour in the place I left – and decided to wonder the empty streets of London in search of a nightbus to get home. Not sad of course, but comfortably reassured that, actually, I really like being with myself. Well, at least sort of.

Photo: Midnight Cowboy by isaiahlt.