epsiode 22

The gay/straight man

A friend and I went to a masked divorce party in Soho. Everyone looked amazing; it was one of those parties where you could just people-watch. Of course we didn't just do that. We had drinks, chatted to a few people and then watched a fabulous cabaret show.
Afterwards, we were introduced to some friends of friends who all worked for the same fashion company. One of them was a guy and we were soon talking as it transpired he knew Singapore, (where I used to live), well. And, he looked very fashion. Skinny jeans, white snakeskin type shoes, and his hair styled to within an inch of its life. When I talked in a previous column about friends that a single girl needs I forgot to mention the gay best friend. Every single girl should have one one, (remember Carrie Bradshaw); and not to be outdone, Faith Bleasdale was about to get hers.
We talked for a while and then I had to go so we exchanged phone numbers. Not feeling threatened or worried about appearing too keen, (the joy of a gay man), I sent him a text the following day to say that it had been great meeting him and asking if he fancied a drink. He replied and we arranged to meet the following week.
A had a conversation with a friend of mine, excitedly telling her about my new, soon-to-be best friend.
'How do you know he's gay?' she asked.
'He works in fashion, and you should have seen his hair and his shoes. Of course he's gay.' Of course the doubt had now set in. Had I accidentally arranged a date with a guy who wasn't gay? It was slightly worrying but I spoke to my friend who had been at the party with me. She said that she was absolutely sure he was gay, and I would be stupid to think otherwise. That cleared that one up then.
It's funny going on a non-date with a guy, you don't have the butterfly nerves that flutter around your stomach, but you still need to make an effort to look good. We arranged to meet at Liverpool Street and as I arrived at the station I realised that was our first mistake. It's a huge and busy place with far too many exits; trying to find him would be like trying to find a single sane man on the internet.
After a few minutes panic, he called me and luckily we discovered a McDonalds in a prominent position. I stood and waited. Then a guy walked past me and I was sure it was him, despite there not being a flicker of recognition in his face. This floored me but then I called him. As he answered his phone he looked over and I smiled. When we met, he said he hadn't seen me; translation, he didn't recognise me. That made me feel really glad it wasn't a date.
We set off in search of a bar and chatted easily. It turned out that his business was representing certain designers and he had an office full of dresses. He was getting better and better by the minute. What was great was that I found him easy to talk and I didn't feel awkward at all. Life is quite different when you don't fancy the guy in question. Life is even more different when you think about all those dresses.
We sat down with drinks and we talked more about Singapore and Asia. I told him all about my ex, and was a bit surprised when he turned around and told me he was divorced with children. However I reassured myself that he must have got divorced when he realised he was gay. It does happen, you hear about it all the time.
We then talked about fashion and shoes and how we felt about certain high-street chains. You know it was also refreshing to talk about clothes without thinking you were not only boring the guy opposite you but also he was more enthusiastic than you. I'm not saying that we were shallow, after all we'd talked about other things, but it was fun, like talking to a girlfriend.
After having something to eat and more drinks, I told him, about all the dating disasters I'd encountered lately. He then talked about another ex-girlfriend. Never mind, I told myself, he was just very slow on the uptake, and it had taken him longer than most to admit he was gay. It's called denial, I believe.
After I went to the bar to buy a couple of glasses of wine, I sat down and he moved to be a bit closer me. We'd had a few drinks by this point, and I was feeling a bit merry, relaxed and very quickly a tiny bit stupid.
What is it with the lunge? Whoever initiates it, it's something that happens quite frequently. My soon be best gay friend, lent over and kissed me. It was a nice kiss, and I responded, although I wasn't very comfortable sitting in a bar snogging someone who only a few hours previous I was convinced was gay. Although, in all fairness I'm never too comfortable with the idea of the PDA, (public display of affection).
It was funny because all evening I had been devoid of expectation, and although you might think I was being really naive, and making grand assumptions about the poor guy, it kind of worked in my favour. I didn't know if I fancied him, but we had got on really well, without any of my usual judgmental behavior. And by the time he kissed me I felt comfortable with him. And, you know it was a great kiss. Of course still being hung up on this I was tempted to ask if perhaps he was bi, but that would have been rude and inappropriate, especially as he'd only spoken about women. Oh well. My gay best friend was still going to elude me it seemed but on the plus side I'd had a nice kiss with a man who had very nice hair.
The next day I told my friend who had met him, about the evening.
'Are you sure he's not gay? I mean I was convinced that he was,' she said. I smiled, I was glad that I wasn't the only one who thought that, but I also reassured her that as far as I was concerned, he definitely wasn't gay.

Next Week: Who's afraid of the PDA?