3 April 2012

THE RUGBY PLAYER

Oh my God, I know.

Rugby. Player.

I would like to preface this postling by saying I have the ability to sniff out any straight guy in any gay bar.  

It's uncanny.

I'm not sure why. I think I just find their sexiness uncomplicated. Also I think it's because I have gender issues and internalised homophobia.

It's a rich tapestry.

So, this happened the other night at my guilty pleasure. A bar we shall never speak of again.

I saw this guy dancing on the stage in a Scottish Rugby jersey who looked like he was on the first leg of a footy trip. Hot. This guy was a tank. You know when you can't tell if someone is muscley or just fat. Let's just say he was fuscley. And really hot. 

So I had a look and he had a look back, but then he looked away just as quickly.

Straight, but not entirely sure of it was my deduction.

He left the stage and I kind forgot about him until I went outside to find a friend and turned around and he was suddenly behind me.

"Oh hi," I said.

"Hi how are you?"

"Good, what's your name?"

OK I don't normally use names on here, but I just have to say straight out of the gate that his name is my all time favourite name for my future boyfriend. I don't know a guy with that name that's not cute. So already we have beefy, wearing a Rugby jersey and my favourite boys name.

AND he actually plays Rugby. For a gay Rugby team. 

I'm hard.

Does that make me a WAG? Or a HAB? Not sure what I am more comfortable with, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

I'm not sure when the obsession with guys who play contact sport started for me. I think it had something to do with growing up in a very patriarchal community - the boys did this, the girls did that. I wanted to be called Vicky when I was 8 so I associated more with the girls. And by and large the girls loved the boys who played Rugby or AFL. So the seed was planted long before I laid eyes on The Rugby Player.

So, after a few getting to know you moments a friend of his got his attention and he started chatting to him. I stood there for a while wondering if he would turn back, but I had lost him to a friend drama. I tried to slip back in unnoticed, spurned that I had been ignored, when he grabbed my arm as I went and told me he would "catch up" with me inside.

I hoped catch up was code for raping my face.

So, I went back to my spot and started dancing.

But no Rugby Player.

Now, in a situation like this I'm no stranger to manufacturing a meeting. You can't rely solely on a serendipitous moment.

So, I saw him at the bar ordering a drink. I slowly walked past him without actually looking at him. OK that didn't work, he's ordering a drink and facing the bar. But there's a mirror at the back of the bar. Just walk past him again. Slowly-er. Still hasn't look. OK if you walk any slower you're going to look like a mime artist just order a drink. How much money have you got? Not enough. OK just go to the bar and stand next to him.

Don't look at me like that - if I hadn't done anything I would still be throwing shapes to Gina G by the ciggie machine wondering if my man mountain would ever find me. And talking to myself.

"Hey! There you are," he shouted.

"Oh my God I didn't see you there *rolls eyes* yeah just gonna get a drink. Where are you?"

"I'll be over here," he said pointing to what seemed like his team mates.

OMG there are more of them.

"OK," I nodded.

Then I realised I had to actually buy a drink. And because I had to pay on card there was a limit of £5 so I had to get a shot of Tequila to go with it. I say "had to" like it was a difficult decision.

So I sauntered over to him with the remnants of Tequila still burning my throat. I was hot. He was hot. I was drunk.

Thank goodness he was as well. It was a real meeting of the munted minds.

As I stood there encompassed in his arms, I felt like Vicky had finally found her captain of the football team.

Then All That Jazz from Chicago came on.

If you have never seen a Rugby Union team burst into song and dance, believe me it is quite a spectacle. It was like the team lost all sense of musical theatre reason. And The Rugby Player was their lead actress.

As he spun off for his solo I wondered if the boys from my childhood knew a show tune inside out like this guy. Then I realised something - I'm actually Laurence now and not Vicky.

Awwww.

We're going on a date this week.

Continue the story here.

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