On Saturday I wake up at Scott’s place and I have breakfast and before going to the gym I drink two cans of Red Bull, which are bound to keep me up, but that’s OK because I’m not planning to sleep on Saturday night anyway.
At the gym I do back and abs and the Gossip Guy is there and I say to him, you know how we talk about all the other people in the gym and you tell us their stories, well what do other people say about us (Scott and me). And Gossip Guy says on nothing really, people just comment that you’re in the gay press a lot.
Which reminds me that when I move to Sydney maybe I should be in the gay press a lot there too, so that then I can recreate this persona whereby people see my picture here and there and I pretend that I don’t care or it bothers me – when I do and it doesn’t. Well I did care when I was in the magazines a lot more, not anymore. But maybe I should care in Sydney again.
Later at home I’m on gaydar and I see the profile of this guy who’s from some country in Europe (I don’t want to say which) and visiting London for the weekend. And he’s kinda hot so I message him and say hi, and then he doesn’t reply and about half an hour later I message again (because I’m mental) and I say “Excuse me, you seem to not have replied to my message. This doesn’t make any sense to me, can you please explain”. And he replies this time and says sorry, he didn’t hit the reply button properly or something and he forwards me the original message he had sent.
And he says that he’s going to this club called __ and do I think this is a good idea. And this is a club that I never go to, because it’s for kinda younger, non-muscly people who haven’t destroyed their lives yet, but I say to him, sure maybe I’ll go there too. So I call the manager of the club and tell him that maybe I’ll go down there tonight and he says cool, guestlist and drinks on him - because I'm so fucking A-Gay of course. So fucking A-Gay that I scare myself sometimes. Let's not mention that this is the only club where I could do that because I know the guy. Let's pretend I can do this anytime, anywhere.
Then I meet Donnell and Brendan and Scott and we go to the Box and then Donnell goes home, but Brendan and Scott and I go to this club, mainly because we want to see if this guy will turn up and are his muscles as nice in real life as they are in his pictures.
Then the guy does turn up and he’s not 5’11’’ as it says on his profile, he’s more like my height, but the muscles are still good.
In the club it’s not very exciting, the crowd is very different to the crowd we know and love, nobody’s passing out in the corner, there are no groups of four people in every toilet cubicle, you can actually walk around without rubbing against naked sweaty flesh endlessly, people are posing using their clothes instead of their abs, nobody gets carried into the medic room.
Then we go.
…it’s 0421 when I take a Valium and 0430 when I take a Zimovane…I wake up at 0930…