talk talk

went out with g.'s new bf, j. on wednesday and friday - g. was at his powerboats evening on wednesday so couldn't join us and, even though he drove over the bridge to pick me up from milson's point on friday and dropped me and j. off at the flinders hotel for the weekly get together of the harbour city bears, he didn't feel like joining us and drove off home - he's saving his energy for his 40th birthday celebrations next saturday when we will all probably end up trashed at arq and staggering down flinders street to taylor's square wincing in pain as our dilated pupils let too much sunlight into our half-open eyes

g. had provided some extra entertainment for us in his absence on friday night which, after an hour of indifferent bear-watching while sitting on a sofa at the back of a dull half-empty bar, we were in dire need of - so after about twenty minutes of wandering up and down oxford street drinking our bottles of water and discussing in which club we should wile away the night, at five to twelve we headed past an american couple arguing with a bouncer over the dress code and up the stairs of 'the midnight shift' club, which surprisingly only charged a five dollar entry fee before midnight

we got in a round of orange juices and lemonades and made our way to a quiet corner of of the large, appropriately lit seating area, where sitting in companionable silence, i sipped my drink taking in the views of young gay guys and their over-the-top enthusiastic conversations with their obligatory fag hags, while j. occupied himself sending long and involved messages to g. about his frustration with g.'s voluntary non-participation in the evening

after a brief cigarette break on oxford street we headed back up the stairs and sat on a long sofa closer to the dance floor, where the thumping beat of cheesey gay nightclub music, a la kelly osbourne, sister sledge et al, slowly worked it's magic on us at the same time as our pick-me-ups kicked in and words were soon flowing out of our mouths at twenty-three to the dozen as we discussed life, the universe and our respective partners in that intense and tactile way that you tend to do in these circumstances

it's been a while since i've sat down with someone and talked in such a personal and revealing way - normally on nights like these i usually dance the early hours away amongst a happy, sweaty, swirling body of shirtless torsos until the dawn or beyond - this experience was different and although it was not the dancey beat-thumping night i had initially expected, i came away feeling that i had bonded with a new friend and was pleasantly surprised to find a gay man in his mid-twenties who didn't present himself as a shallow, bimbotic clone living his life in a soap opera of his own construction with little self-awareness and no concept of irony

to quote prefab sprout, 'darling, it's a life of surprises'