Talking talons

A little hang-over from my fat days means that I'm generally flattered by anyone who takes a shine to me.

I really do need to get over it because sometimes it gets me into tricky situations.

For instance, if I'm in a gay bar ("I wanna take you to a gay bar, a gay bar") I hear the following quite often from friends; "why the hell are you flirting with him!"

And I have to say that I wasn't flirting, I was just being friendly.

By which stage, the guy who I was chatting to thinks me and him are on the threshold of commitment rings, a chauffeured pink Rolls-Royce and two his & his Retrievers named Judy and Liza.

So for the rest of the evening all I hear is "Bobby was flirting with some really odd guy" while I repeat "no mate, thanks but can you take your hand off my crotch now."

For instance, in South Africa I was in a bar called The Loft (you have one go to guess in which part of the building it's located in...) and there was a guy who I thought looked lonely and upset so I went over and started talking to him.

I don't think he looked that shifty, he was very interested in London and said things like "I always wanted to live in the UK."

Okay, it was a little unusual when I pulled out a R200 note (the highest denomination) and he said "wow - I've always wanted to have R200 notes."

And it was even more odd when, shortly afterwards, he made a point of telling me that he was. going. to. the. toilet. now. which. are. just. over. there. where. that. door. is.

Cue Andrew who bounds over and says "what the fuck - Bobby, that's a fucken crack-head rentboy... can't you tell? He sleeps in a shelter. I can't believe he's in here because they always have to kick him out."

And I just thought he looked a bit lonely and wanted to chat to someone.

I tell you this because we have a new guy in the office.

He's definitely not my type but because I was friendly to him on the first day, everyone thinks I was flirting with him and therefore I want to sleep with him.

Even straights who love to tell you how all their friends are gay, still can't seem to budge that perception that all gay men shag each other. (Fair dos to them for thinking that actually...)

Anyway.

So I don't know where this story is going? Um. I can't really remember.

I think that's what I wanted to mention. About straight people thinking that all gays shag each other.

No, it was something else. Oh well, it will come to me. At four in the goddam morning.

I am very charitable when it comes to guys actually. I'll talk to anyone. Except guys who spit when they talk. Or guys who talk RIGHT IN YOUR FACE!

And how important is this to you... okay, so you've met a guy in a bar...

...


This bit of the post I've cut because I was making rather unfair generalisations about British men being bad in bed, hung up about sex while generally having long fingernails and all of them wanting to wear Margaret Thatcher's stockings.

So rude.

We're not rude on this blog. We love everyone. Except...

okay, sh!

...

And then I'm going to go to bed and fantastise about sleeping with all my gay friends. Because that's what we do.