24 March 2014


I'd love to be one of those people who claim to not have any regrets. Every experience leading them gracefully to this point right now.

*rolls eyes*

Fuck. Off.

I have so many regrets, I've had to take on an intern.

Especially when it comes to men.

Let me begin.

I regret breaking it off with Brad, a lovely albeit desperate guy I dated when I was 20. I broke it off because I was convinced someone better was going to come along and I didn't want to be tied to anyone when it did. Turns out, nothing did!

I regret ignoring Greg, a really sweet handsome guy who followed me round one night like a sniffer dog at a Mardi Gras after party after I snogged him as the result of a dare. I ignored him because I thought he wasn't "cool" enough for me. I had wedged flip flops and diamanté encrusted jeans on so clearly I was some sort of cool aficionado.

I regret not making the effort to talk to that really cute guy with the blue eyes and cropped blonde hair who said hello to me of his own volition on several separate occasions in bars around Sydney. He once walked past me, said hello, then came back, stood next to me and I didn't say anything because I wanted him to make the first move. But he already had!

I regret telling Dean the oh-so hot Landscape Gardener/Surfer after a few Chardonnays that he should "turn his hot down". Then developed a double handed gesture to accompany the "turn your hot down" command that consisted of both hands being thrust in a downward motion, then going up to my friends on the dance floor and getting them to do the same gesture toward Dean while he sat watching.

I also regret taking Dean home that night and wigging out because and I quote, "thought he was too hot." Clearly he had done nothing about turning that hotness down.

I regret not being more flirtatious with Chad, a guy who my friend Mark introduced me to after he clearly requested an audience with me. And then when I saw him later in the night and he told me he loved my hair. (Tonged. Shoulder length. Natch) I said something like "thanks it's a labour of love" WTF? How about stick it in?

So, with all these regrets in mind, I have decided it is time to seize that gay.

There is a guy that I keep seeing almost on a weekly basis near my work. We acknowledge each others gayness with a lingering, fleeting look. I get a stomach flip every time our eyes meet and I either look away, fidget, run back to the office or masturbate right there in the street.

Then on the weekend just passed I was walking around my local neighbourhood, when who should walk around the corner coming face to face with me? That's right, my mystery suitor. I realised this was some awesome game that fate was playing and I was finally going to win.

I brazenly walked up to him and said, "Hi. How are you?"
"Good," was his lukewarm response.
"Look we could go on like this for months, but I thought I'd be the adult here and come and say hello. So...hello." I accompanied this with a wave.

The smile that spread across his face melted my heart and finally I felt as though all the missed opportunities of my past were exactly where they were - in my past. My present was romantically assertive. I wasn't going to let another eligible suitor get away this time.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea who you are."

At this point any normal person would have made their apologies and a hasty exit stage left, but oh no, not me. I had to jog his memory.

"But it's me, from Victoria Street. You work there right?"
"Remember, there was that time you came round the corner of that Pizza Express that's a hairdresser now, I was walking with a girl with blonde hair? You looked at me and I looked at you?"
"Or there was that other time when I was walking out of Waitrose and you were walking in and we basically walked into each other? There was a woman doing a juicing demonstration in the foyer? It was raining?"
"Or when you kind of smiled at me in the M and S food court?"
"Have we ever spoken?"
"I have no idea who you are."

Right, so best we leave it at that then. I then walked away as though I was acting out hanging up on a telemarketer through the medium of dance. Sometimes I curse my ability to speak.

If I were a glass half full kinda gay, I would say that I avoided any future regrets by finding out whether he had any penis feelings towards me at all. But I'm not. My glass is always flying at half mast. Now I have a regret within the non regret that I ever said anything at all because I have to see that fucker potentially on a daily occurrence. I guess you can't be immune to the cycle of regret. When I thought I was eradicating future regret I was actually creating a whole other raft of regrets.

God I'm exhausting.

Suffice to say whenever I see him on Victoria Street he now knows who I am.

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