I spent the weekend in my Venice, no nothing romantic or extravagant, we know I mean Birmingham. I and one of my oldest friends Marina booked a hotel room, lined our stomachs then headed out to our old haunts on Hurst Street. This is the Birmingham gay scene, a once secluded and almost seedy night spot without the Soho tourists and the Canal Street ‘Queer as Folk’ extras. It was a perfect weekend wandering from bar to bar reliving our University memories. We laughed till we choked, drank until we fell over and ate as if it was our last supper. Some things never change, oh except the introduction of gay chic into Hurst Street with additional ‘cool’ bars, several luxury flats and a Tesco Metro!
It is during the weekend I began thinking how much I enjoy the relationships I have with my friends. There is little pressure with good friends. I can be myself, not worry about the extra thigh width and I do not have to compromise my life or personality in order to keep them happy. It is unconditional love and if we irritate each other, excuses are made; we can go home and laugh about it later. But, there’s one key element friends cannot fulfil and that’s real intimacy; the kind you only get from a partner.
I am enjoying my path to self discovery and I need to be single at the moment in order to not make the same relationship mistakes time and time again. However, by being single it’s inevitable that at some point the lack of intimacy is going to dominate the mind. Oh who am I trying to kid? Sod self discovery, I can’t stop thinking about sex.
You could say being in Birmingham surrounded by beautiful women was the perfect opportunity to have a casual fling. I have a London postcode, I can easily give a fake number and never have to see them again; but pulling wasn’t an option. When I turned my back for two minutes Marina was accosted by the local psycho who was waiting for a date with her ex-girlfriends gynaecologist! By the time we were ready to move on to a club, Psycho was well and truly welded to our sides. With the no show of the fictional gynaecologist and by being nice; social lepers we were, lady magnets we were not.
That’s by the by, because I only want to sleep with someone I’m physically attracted to and have a connection with. A connection not instigated by consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Evidently this will lead to falling in love, moving in and buying a cat; something I am not ready to do. So what do I do in the meantime to curb all thoughts of women?
Even sleeping is adding to my frustration. Every night another woman appears in my dreams. Sounds great but I am one of those that have never got satisfaction through my dreams. I am just getting intimate with Cate Blanchett in a bath (see Elizabeth for any clarification) and the bloody Armada kicks off and I wake up; spending the entire day at work cursing the Spanish and feeling frustrated.
This does not bode well when working in a very straight environment. The gay population appears to consist of me and the non gender specific security guard. So, imagine my shock, excitement and amazement when I walked through the canteen and witnessed such sexual tension between two beautiful women I went weak at the knees. I had to do everything in my power to not run towards them shouting ‘I’m one of yooouuu!’ before sandwiching myself between the two in a desperate bid to have some female contact.
Being single is right for me at the moment, I need to understand myself before embarking on another relationship. I am holding out for someone spectacular, my ‘wink factor’, where only true love will do. So before I cross the boundaries into inappropriate work conduct and stalk the two hot women or start leaning against strangers in the queue at the supermarket cash tills; what do I do? And please no hand or battery operated suggestions.