13 October 2014


OK this is big.

I met a writer. Like me. In a bar. The old fashioned way. Remember meeting guys in bars? Didn't think so!

Anyway, I was out with some friends and I spied a tall dark handsome type with cheek bones that could take your eye out. So of course I opened Grindr to see if he was on. He wasn't. It was like he didn't exist.

I pointed him out to my friend Vanessa and she walked straight up to The Cheek Bones and started engaging with him. I couldn't believe what was happening. I was actually going to have to have face-to-face interaction. I was secretly relieved I was not going to have to make the first move, but when does anybody talk to a complete stranger in a London gay bar? London gays are tough. They circled their wagons long before you turned up. Bars are for meeting up with friends. Grindr is for hooking up. And how dare you not know that.

I remember before all this online malarkey, I was so shy I would have rather licked an Ebola patients armpit than talk to a guy in a bar. I relied solely on my wing woman Jae to talk to men. She was a master at walking up to sanctioned cute boys, chatting to them and then introducing a freshly-returned-from-the-bar me to continue the sparkling conversation. It became such a routine, I would literally point in the direction of a cute guy and she would be over there, Ruski in hand, faster than you can say have you got a light? I count her solely responsible for any sex I had during my early 20s.

Now the online world has turned me back into that Ebola armpit licking scaredy gay.

As I arrived to Vanessa and The Cheek Bones, Vanessa simply said this is Laurence and then did an over exaggerated step away like she was in plain view of a camera filming a reality show about my life. Faaarrk.

So we chatted for a while. Nothing ground breaking. Some would say boring. Even awkward. He actually yawned at one point. I honestly felt like we were going our separate ways and then he asked to swap numbers. Then he left. I waited enough time for him to have hailed a cab and then I left myself. I didn't really feel like having another awkward conversation on the street after we had already said our goodbyes. I got home and my phone vibrated with a message from The Cheek Bones. He apologised for running off but he was actually leaving when Vanessa tackled him to the ground and started talking to him. He then said that he had a reason to stay, winky smiley face. Which I am assuming was me.

*girly laugh*

I then realised this was unexplored territory for me. As I walked through the door to my flat, it dawned upon me I hadn't eaten his face off nor was I about to eat his dick. I was all alone. Is this what my straight girlfriends call "taking it slow". I was not only blue balling him, I was blue balling myself!

Maybe this is where I have been going wrong all these years: in the past it has been A HUNDRED!!!! from the get go with nowhere to go, but down. Everything laid bare on that first night. Every story ever told recounted. No gradual progression. No slow reveal but A HUNDRED!!!! from the outset. Maybe starting lower like 70 or even 60 and gradually working my way up is the way to go rather than starting at A HUNDRED!!!! and then becoming super disappointed when I actually see them as a human being.

This was definitely a solid 60, so at least I'm trying.

He stupidly gave me his last name when he put his number in my phone. Already found him on Facebook and screen grabbed his photo.

A HUNDRED!!!! So maybe not trying too hard.

Anyway, we have a date this Thursday.

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