Chaperoned
So my last week was just go-Go-GO.
Started off the week meeting up with CtGuy for drinks in the city. He is a charming fella' and we passed an interesting evening near his gym having a few drinks near the river. The evening was especially interesting in seeing his interaction with a few of his office mates.
One of them mentioned that they sometimes play a game where each of these straight guys will see how gay they can go with each other before the other one gives out. Ah the remnants of British all-boys boarding schools!
Had lunch with Chad, a friend from Sydney who now works for a bank in Canary Wharf. Chad has always been a wild man and now is no different. Still a crazy guy who is out somewhere in Vauxhall every weekend. How he manages to keep going is beyond my abilities.
Friday, I was lucky enough to have seen the new musical called the "Drowsy Chaperone" at the Novello with tickets given to me by Czech Out who was still on his honeymoon in Réunion. Lucky me!
Stuart and I laughed and laughed at this very camp (even for a musical), very gay (even for a musical), romp (even for…you get the idea) through a fake 1920s musical with the darling Elaine Page as a rarely sober but always witty Chaperone at a wedding. My favourite line has to be during a press conference held by a broadway star just before her wedding when this actress asks if anyone else has any questions.
The Chaperone raises her hand.
"Yes?"
The Chaperone slurs out, "Why would anyone put an olive in a Gimlet?"
After the show Stuart and I went to have a drink. Past by the Box, where I have yet to go, but there were so many people we decided not to give it a chance. (Well, perhaps there wasn't too many people, but instead the people there had such enormous necks from all the roids that fewer of them could actually fit side by side). We went down to Soho instead where we had one drink outside the Compton (filled with the well-past-their-prime) and another at Rupert Street (filled with the just-past-their-prime…of which I must claim (or at least accept begrudgingly, membership) where we watched the pre-pubescent and the near-decrepit wait anxious for a glance (and a grope) of Harry Potter.
The weekend otherwise past by easily with more furniture shopping and general relaxing. Then on Monday in the midst of a terrible 5 C May day, I decided that I needed some porn. Bud asked why and I had to admit that my imagination just wasn't cutting it anymore. Who wants to think of their own fantasy when one can be supplied? And I have to admit that today I am a bit more relaxed.
Ah…only 25 days to go until he arrives.
Started off the week meeting up with CtGuy for drinks in the city. He is a charming fella' and we passed an interesting evening near his gym having a few drinks near the river. The evening was especially interesting in seeing his interaction with a few of his office mates.
One of them mentioned that they sometimes play a game where each of these straight guys will see how gay they can go with each other before the other one gives out. Ah the remnants of British all-boys boarding schools!
Had lunch with Chad, a friend from Sydney who now works for a bank in Canary Wharf. Chad has always been a wild man and now is no different. Still a crazy guy who is out somewhere in Vauxhall every weekend. How he manages to keep going is beyond my abilities.
Friday, I was lucky enough to have seen the new musical called the "Drowsy Chaperone" at the Novello with tickets given to me by Czech Out who was still on his honeymoon in Réunion. Lucky me!
Stuart and I laughed and laughed at this very camp (even for a musical), very gay (even for a musical), romp (even for…you get the idea) through a fake 1920s musical with the darling Elaine Page as a rarely sober but always witty Chaperone at a wedding. My favourite line has to be during a press conference held by a broadway star just before her wedding when this actress asks if anyone else has any questions.
The Chaperone raises her hand.
"Yes?"
The Chaperone slurs out, "Why would anyone put an olive in a Gimlet?"
After the show Stuart and I went to have a drink. Past by the Box, where I have yet to go, but there were so many people we decided not to give it a chance. (Well, perhaps there wasn't too many people, but instead the people there had such enormous necks from all the roids that fewer of them could actually fit side by side). We went down to Soho instead where we had one drink outside the Compton (filled with the well-past-their-prime) and another at Rupert Street (filled with the just-past-their-prime…of which I must claim (or at least accept begrudgingly, membership) where we watched the pre-pubescent and the near-decrepit wait anxious for a glance (and a grope) of Harry Potter.
The weekend otherwise past by easily with more furniture shopping and general relaxing. Then on Monday in the midst of a terrible 5 C May day, I decided that I needed some porn. Bud asked why and I had to admit that my imagination just wasn't cutting it anymore. Who wants to think of their own fantasy when one can be supplied? And I have to admit that today I am a bit more relaxed.
Ah…only 25 days to go until he arrives.
posted by Rye at 12:09 p.m.
2 Comments:
Ouch.. loved your obsevations of gay night life for what it is.
ya i did love your observation
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