A gay indie boy living in suburban South West London recounts his trials and tribulations dealing with sex, sexuality, growing up and getting older

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Taking chances

Taking chances is a very, very hard thing to do, and taking chances in the romantic stakes- or, more accurately the hesitation to do so- is usually what hold us back.

I'm having a clean week. Last week, I drank 6 days in a row and that's enough for anyone with a healthy liver. Soon, I'll be able to drink a pint of Windowlene and not wince. So yesterday, I went to see an acoustic gig by my friend. In fact, I accompanied her after work to the sound check.

I mainly sat around drinking water (I know. Me. Water. It just doesn't go), and then my friend rushed out to say "The sound guy's really cute, you know. AND he's just come back from Russia."

Meaning I think he's gay, you're gay, you've been to Russia, he's been to Russia... You're bound to get on.

Anyone, who's read one of my previous posts will see that I hate this type of set up, so I raised one sceptical eyebrow before he came in chasing my friend. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, indie... I loved him. But I wasn't so sure he was gay. She promptly introduced me.

"Nice to meet you," I said confidently and shook his hand.

"Nice to meet y..." he trailed off.

Strange, but meh I thought.

Then I went for something to eat and sat down at the gig on a table with a guitar case on it.

Blonde boy comes over, grabs the case whilst smiling at me. I smile back. We both laugh.

Okay, was he flirting with me? I couldn't tell anymore. Maybe he was just a 'nice guy'. Maybe he was straight and shy. Who knows? Why was I thinking about it so much?

I happened to have a pen and notepad with me. I took out the pen:


I may have the wrong end of the stick, but if not then call me

[phone number here]

PS I've just come back from visiting Russia"

I laughed and folded it. And then I hesitated.

"Just give it to him!" my friend said

"No... I can't. What if he is straight?"

She snatched the note out of my fingers and left for what seemed like forever. She came back and sat down.

"What did he say?"

"He hasn't read the note yet"

"I have to go," I said, quickly putting on my scarf and jacket, then running out the door. I think being sober made it even scarier- it was even more real. I didn't have the excuse that I didn't know what I was doing.

Cursing myself on the way home for being an idiot, I quickly saw the funny side whatever the outcome was. Maybe he was straight, but if that's the case i just provided him with a great anecdote he can tell his friends. I went home, got undressed and made myself a cup of green tea with jasmine (I mean, what the fuck is wrong with me? Green tea? Water? Someone give me a bottle of fucking vodka NOW!) and went to bed.

My phone rang.

No- it wasn't him, it was my friend.

"What happened?" I had to ask immediately/

"Well, as I was leaving I said bye. I thought that was going to be it. Then he hesitated and called my name. He said 'Thanks for note', smiled and put his thumbs up," she said.

I laughed. Sounded pretty positive, but then friends will always paint it in a positive light. Perhaps he is shy, which is why he was so vague but its hard to tell. Maybe he was straight and just totally flattered.

As onimous as his reply was, it still kind of gave me a kick- a sharp jolt realising that sometimes life can be quite exciting, especially when you take a chance.

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