Threads

I had been chatting to guy on gaydar for a little while; he put a star on my profile (which means he ‘likes me’ as opposed to a flame which would mean he thinks I’m ‘hot’) and I thanked him and we just got to talking. So, after a while, I asked him out – and we set a date for this coming Monday.

By co-incidence in the meantime my friend ‘A’ invited me on Friday to join her and her gay male friends for a few drinks in Vauxhall (an area of London that has a nice range of scene venues). I arrived at 10 and there were drinks and dancing to the early hours when we piled by to ‘A’s place for more drinks and dancing… A very good night.

In the [later that] morning, whilst unaccountably feeling slightly under the weather, I got a text from Monday’s date. It seems he had been in the same place as my friends and O; and my antics caught his eye. So, after further discussion we decided to bring the date forward to that very evening.

We met in Greenwich at 7 and I took him for dinner at a French restaurant in the town centre. Afterward we went for a drink, which became a few drinks – though I hasten to point out we were very measured and did not get drunk at all. But midnight came and we were still talking so I took him (as part of a nefarious scheme I will admit to you now gentle reader) to a gay bar in Greenwich for a nightcap.

To cut a long story short there were in the bar muches smooches and, as that venue closed, my date asked to come home with me.

And, to cut a longer story even shorter on the bus home Rule One slowly got trumped [t’was ever thus] by Rule Two and after we got home it seemed the fewer clothes there were the more fun was to be had…

Sunday morning we cuddled for hours first in bed and then on my sofa then after breakfast and our shower together I walked him to the station and around midday we said goodbye.

The date is a very tall, handsome Australian guy less than a year in Strumpetville and frankly, I’d very much like to see him again. But this is where Rule Three comes in; here I am after a fantastic first date that lasted 16 hours sort of regretting the Rule Two thing and angstishlike wondering if I will see tall, handsome Australian again.

I know I should be more aloof but that’s not really my style and I can’t pretend not to care. I’m not planning our wedding or anything. It’s just I’ve had recently quite a few Fantastic First Dates that simply went nowhere; so I recognise my persistence in living in hope is flying in the face of some pretty rough numbers! And I have no experience, skills or resources to inform my handling of events after a guy puts his clothes back on so it’s all, still, a bit tricky.

Well, what I’m going to do is on Monday get in touch and invite him to come over for dinner and – if he’s very nice – dessert. And we’ll take it from there.

Round and round and round it goes: where it stops no-body knows!