Intoxicated too!
On Friday I was angling to go out for a few drinks with Janet. I had told Andrew to get himself up for a change as I would be going out but then Janet said she had her car and so wouldn’t be drinking which put the kibosh on my plans. Anyway as the day progressed Janet asked if I wanted to go down to Wilmslow. So we worked till about half past six and then we left, getting to Janet’s shortly after 7pm.
We had a few glasses of wine talked about which would be better for throwing at someone, a celeriac or a swede, and the pros and cons of gay partnership blessings for the Unitarian Church (as you do). Anyway we went to the pub and had a nice chat in the pub and I began to slip into drunkenness. We were joined my Graham who was a stonemason (nickname Perry Stonemason) who was a nice bloke and had a Lock hat! Anyway we chatted to him and then I got chatting to another of Janet and Ollie’s friends, a 49 year old called Harry who wasn’t bad looking in a craggy way and I certainly had the impression that he was chatting me up. He was asking if I was married and so I said no but I had a partner and he asked how long we’d been together, where we met, which pub etc, so it became apparent that I was a hommer and then he started on about how much sex he’s had and that he’s intrigued by gay sex but not that keen on the idea even though at the minute his penchant is for transsexuals. It was all very strange but I am convinced that if I’d had another couple and so had he, something could have ended up going on.
So anyway, time was passing and I was very aware of the fact that I was in Cheshire, fifteen miles from home so I started making noises about heading off for a train to the amusement of everyone there. There were engineering works and no trains. Ollie offered me their spare room but I wanted to get home and also had mind to go to Cruz so I said thanks but no: I’d get a taxi to Manchester Airport and then get a train to town. So this is what I did. Now it’s about midnight now so I’m actually a bit worried that there might be no trains to the Airport but anyway I got a taxi there. £14 it cost, for about a 3 mile ride! – it’s only £30 to come all the way back into Manchester! Anyway there was a train … at 01.10 – 45 minutes away. So I sat down with my book (its as boring as hell, http://tinyurl.com/dde2d damn Amazon recommending rubbish books) and ate some cheap bacon fries wannabe crisps and waited. So the train comes and I get on and it’s the coldest train in the world. It dropped us off at Piccadilly so I hotfooted it down to Cruz, paid my fiver in, got my bottle of poppers, checked in my bag and coat, another two quid and bought a pint, another three quid. Supped that quickly and went onto the dance floor. Had quite a nice time, there was this fit lad and his fit female friend, who danced with me (probably a sympathy “lets dance (and make fun) of the fat bloke on his own” dance – but it was OK). I was befriended by a guy who was really not good. He wore clothes worse than me, had massive ears, looked as if he was a hod carrier and too many bricks had landed on his head. Well anyway, he kept gravitating towards me but nothing happened and I fucked off at 3am ish.
Got home and had a strange combination of foodstuffs: red kidney beans, coleslaw, Caesar salad dressing and mayo all mixed up. Well it was edible at least.
Saturday morning, Andrew was up and wanted to go to the cinema, he was in a very good mood which was strange since he’d been up a while and been to work and should have been descending into monosyllabic miserable Andrew not being silly Andrew. He thought we could go at 10 am but the first showing was 11.50 so I got dressed and headed up there. We popped into the amusements and lost a tenner there – this pissed Andrew off no end and he became silent Andrew – I knew it would happen eventually.
We watched the film which was very good and then went home. Andrew went to bed as he had work at 21.30. I lolled about napped and did nothing all day and all night. Complete waste of a day.
Sunday didn’t start off much better. Andrew was working 13.30 – 21.30 after coming back from work the previous night at 04.30 and I spent the afternoon moving the book shelf, washing, making stew, rearranging the bedroom. Anyway at 20.00 Andrew rung to say that he was working a double shift as he’d been offered overtime. I was pissed off, I’d been at home all day, in the house for over 24 hours and I was bored, so I decided to go out. Tidied up etc. and set off at about 22.30 and went to Churchills with the intention of having two or three.
It was very busy, there’d been a Cher tribute act earlier so I had to sit somewhere other than my normal seat. Anyway a bit later on I managed to get to sit at my second favourite seat which was alright. There’s a couple who come into the pub a lot, a really really cute Indian boy and his older white boyfriend and the Indian lad walked in and said hello and then the boyf, they usually sit on the raised area where I was but there were no seats so they went to prop up the bar. The two next to me went home so I caught Indian boy’s eye and gestured to them so they came and sat with me and I had a nice chat with them. Kevin (white, 45, balding) and Jonny (Indian 22, not balding) were no longer a couple, they’d just split up (which is worth making a note of for if anything happens to me and the boy) but were still living together and friends. Nice people, I offered to buy them a drink but they were off soon, but nevertheless, potential for new friends there I thought.
Now all the while I am chatting to Jonny and Kev, I am also chatting to the drunken straight man and his drunken straight mates and drunken gay brother on the other side of me. They were all hammered, gay brother (probably about 40 and not bad looking but not great looking) was ogling me, drunk straight man nicked a fag off me and then proceeded to say that him and me were the same, it was us against the world and that god made me in his image and if god didn’t like the gays he wouldn’t have made us and what’s it got to do with anyone which hold I fuck etc.: exactly the same as all straight men in gay pubs say when they’re pissed. Anyway he bought me a packet of cigs to make up for the fag he’d stolen which was a good exchange!
Now to make it even more complicated, across the way were two women who looked a bit like drag queens but they were real women, both on the wrong side of 60, wearling black flowy velvety clothes. Well the drunk men took a shine to them and kept dancing with them and flirting with them, it was all highly amusing and the women took it all in good humour. Anyhew, I wanted to buy the drunk man who bought me fags a drink but he had a whole pint but he asked that I buy the two women a drink which I duly did so they cam over and chatted away. Bernadette and Bernadette, normally come on a Monday but they’d been to a dance at the Princess Hotel and it wasn’t very good so they’d come here… nice ladies.
So I ws feeling v popular with all this commotion, Jonny and Kev, Bernie and Bernie and the straight men and the pervy gay brother but before I knew it it was home time. The straight men and gay bro went to New York New York and invited me but I said I had bed to get to so they went off. Anyway ten minutes later when I set off home I decided to pop into NY NY to see if the straight men were there but the man wouldn’t let me in. By this point though I’d worked up a bit of an appetite for another drink so I went to Cruz.
Its almost as if I’d anticipated my actions since I’d come out with a £1 off flyer and a bottle of poppers. Anyway I got in there and almost immediately I got chatting to a bloke I’d chatted to in there last week. He was called Carl and he was 34 had his own carpet fitting company, had a 13 year old girl. He was with his female friend Kim and his 18 year old straight very pretty mate Anthony who was being eyed up by a guy leaning against a pillar and probably everyone else in there! Carl was really nice thought I was hugely amusing and liked me because I was a “genuine bloke” and he’s looking for friends so we swapped numbers and we’re going to go out sometime. Anyway he and his two friends went home and I was alone with my pint so I went over to lean against the pillar too and was just finishing my pint when the guy who had been eyeing up Anthony turned round and started talking at me.
“I bet you think I’m really miserable” was his opening gambit which is always a good start. He was called Anthony too! He was 30 had nice white teeth and nice eyes and I quite fancied him. He was a bit of a dead loss though. He wasn’t much of a smiler, had no self confidence, hated dancing, had never pulled in a pub or club and thought that he was a rubbish gay man. I told him he just needed to pull himself together and said that if I could sleep with 10 men last year, he could pull one man so he went off, encouraged and decided to chat someone up. I’d promised I wouldn’t leave and I stood there smoking and drinking (he’d bought me a can of red stripe) when the DJ announced a competition – a prize for the first man to give him a pair of boxer shorts. These two women ran up to me immediately and said come on then, why don’t you go for it, so stupidly drunken me bends over (so my shirt can protect my modesty) takes off my shoes and trousers and pants and put back on my trousers – all in about 5 seconds. I won a CD (Andy Bell), a T shirt (medium), a pen, a key ring and a sweet. Great! The women made me put on the T Shirt which was tiny so by the end, every bit of my body had been exposed in one way or another.
Anyway Anthony was back – he’d been a failure apparently which wasn’t entirely true since he’d chatted to a couple of nice looking fellas and had been knocked back. But just chatting was OK. He had another attempt with probably the nicest man in the club and got ignored – which isn’t good at all – but let’s face it, when you’re aiming for the nicest man in the place, you have to expect it. Anyway we continued chatting and he was really nice and we agreed that we’d go out for a drink (not on a week day, he can’t drink when he’s working the next day!) and I’d try to help him stop being the worst gay man in the world. Then he went off again on the prowl and again I promised that I’d not leave while he was away and about 5 minutes later he was back saying he’d been chatting to someone and they were really nice so I told him off for coming and talking to me and told him he should go back which he did. I breathed a huge sigh of relief thinking, at last, I can go home to bed so I supped my can, collected my jacket and fucked off home. Getting into bed at 02.57. On a Sunday night. I am evil!!
We had a few glasses of wine talked about which would be better for throwing at someone, a celeriac or a swede, and the pros and cons of gay partnership blessings for the Unitarian Church (as you do). Anyway we went to the pub and had a nice chat in the pub and I began to slip into drunkenness. We were joined my Graham who was a stonemason (nickname Perry Stonemason) who was a nice bloke and had a Lock hat! Anyway we chatted to him and then I got chatting to another of Janet and Ollie’s friends, a 49 year old called Harry who wasn’t bad looking in a craggy way and I certainly had the impression that he was chatting me up. He was asking if I was married and so I said no but I had a partner and he asked how long we’d been together, where we met, which pub etc, so it became apparent that I was a hommer and then he started on about how much sex he’s had and that he’s intrigued by gay sex but not that keen on the idea even though at the minute his penchant is for transsexuals. It was all very strange but I am convinced that if I’d had another couple and so had he, something could have ended up going on.
So anyway, time was passing and I was very aware of the fact that I was in Cheshire, fifteen miles from home so I started making noises about heading off for a train to the amusement of everyone there. There were engineering works and no trains. Ollie offered me their spare room but I wanted to get home and also had mind to go to Cruz so I said thanks but no: I’d get a taxi to Manchester Airport and then get a train to town. So this is what I did. Now it’s about midnight now so I’m actually a bit worried that there might be no trains to the Airport but anyway I got a taxi there. £14 it cost, for about a 3 mile ride! – it’s only £30 to come all the way back into Manchester! Anyway there was a train … at 01.10 – 45 minutes away. So I sat down with my book (its as boring as hell, http://tinyurl.com/dde2d damn Amazon recommending rubbish books) and ate some cheap bacon fries wannabe crisps and waited. So the train comes and I get on and it’s the coldest train in the world. It dropped us off at Piccadilly so I hotfooted it down to Cruz, paid my fiver in, got my bottle of poppers, checked in my bag and coat, another two quid and bought a pint, another three quid. Supped that quickly and went onto the dance floor. Had quite a nice time, there was this fit lad and his fit female friend, who danced with me (probably a sympathy “lets dance (and make fun) of the fat bloke on his own” dance – but it was OK). I was befriended by a guy who was really not good. He wore clothes worse than me, had massive ears, looked as if he was a hod carrier and too many bricks had landed on his head. Well anyway, he kept gravitating towards me but nothing happened and I fucked off at 3am ish.
Got home and had a strange combination of foodstuffs: red kidney beans, coleslaw, Caesar salad dressing and mayo all mixed up. Well it was edible at least.
Saturday morning, Andrew was up and wanted to go to the cinema, he was in a very good mood which was strange since he’d been up a while and been to work and should have been descending into monosyllabic miserable Andrew not being silly Andrew. He thought we could go at 10 am but the first showing was 11.50 so I got dressed and headed up there. We popped into the amusements and lost a tenner there – this pissed Andrew off no end and he became silent Andrew – I knew it would happen eventually.
We watched the film which was very good and then went home. Andrew went to bed as he had work at 21.30. I lolled about napped and did nothing all day and all night. Complete waste of a day.
Sunday didn’t start off much better. Andrew was working 13.30 – 21.30 after coming back from work the previous night at 04.30 and I spent the afternoon moving the book shelf, washing, making stew, rearranging the bedroom. Anyway at 20.00 Andrew rung to say that he was working a double shift as he’d been offered overtime. I was pissed off, I’d been at home all day, in the house for over 24 hours and I was bored, so I decided to go out. Tidied up etc. and set off at about 22.30 and went to Churchills with the intention of having two or three.
It was very busy, there’d been a Cher tribute act earlier so I had to sit somewhere other than my normal seat. Anyway a bit later on I managed to get to sit at my second favourite seat which was alright. There’s a couple who come into the pub a lot, a really really cute Indian boy and his older white boyfriend and the Indian lad walked in and said hello and then the boyf, they usually sit on the raised area where I was but there were no seats so they went to prop up the bar. The two next to me went home so I caught Indian boy’s eye and gestured to them so they came and sat with me and I had a nice chat with them. Kevin (white, 45, balding) and Jonny (Indian 22, not balding) were no longer a couple, they’d just split up (which is worth making a note of for if anything happens to me and the boy) but were still living together and friends. Nice people, I offered to buy them a drink but they were off soon, but nevertheless, potential for new friends there I thought.
Now all the while I am chatting to Jonny and Kev, I am also chatting to the drunken straight man and his drunken straight mates and drunken gay brother on the other side of me. They were all hammered, gay brother (probably about 40 and not bad looking but not great looking) was ogling me, drunk straight man nicked a fag off me and then proceeded to say that him and me were the same, it was us against the world and that god made me in his image and if god didn’t like the gays he wouldn’t have made us and what’s it got to do with anyone which hold I fuck etc.: exactly the same as all straight men in gay pubs say when they’re pissed. Anyway he bought me a packet of cigs to make up for the fag he’d stolen which was a good exchange!
Now to make it even more complicated, across the way were two women who looked a bit like drag queens but they were real women, both on the wrong side of 60, wearling black flowy velvety clothes. Well the drunk men took a shine to them and kept dancing with them and flirting with them, it was all highly amusing and the women took it all in good humour. Anyhew, I wanted to buy the drunk man who bought me fags a drink but he had a whole pint but he asked that I buy the two women a drink which I duly did so they cam over and chatted away. Bernadette and Bernadette, normally come on a Monday but they’d been to a dance at the Princess Hotel and it wasn’t very good so they’d come here… nice ladies.
So I ws feeling v popular with all this commotion, Jonny and Kev, Bernie and Bernie and the straight men and the pervy gay brother but before I knew it it was home time. The straight men and gay bro went to New York New York and invited me but I said I had bed to get to so they went off. Anyway ten minutes later when I set off home I decided to pop into NY NY to see if the straight men were there but the man wouldn’t let me in. By this point though I’d worked up a bit of an appetite for another drink so I went to Cruz.
Its almost as if I’d anticipated my actions since I’d come out with a £1 off flyer and a bottle of poppers. Anyway I got in there and almost immediately I got chatting to a bloke I’d chatted to in there last week. He was called Carl and he was 34 had his own carpet fitting company, had a 13 year old girl. He was with his female friend Kim and his 18 year old straight very pretty mate Anthony who was being eyed up by a guy leaning against a pillar and probably everyone else in there! Carl was really nice thought I was hugely amusing and liked me because I was a “genuine bloke” and he’s looking for friends so we swapped numbers and we’re going to go out sometime. Anyway he and his two friends went home and I was alone with my pint so I went over to lean against the pillar too and was just finishing my pint when the guy who had been eyeing up Anthony turned round and started talking at me.
“I bet you think I’m really miserable” was his opening gambit which is always a good start. He was called Anthony too! He was 30 had nice white teeth and nice eyes and I quite fancied him. He was a bit of a dead loss though. He wasn’t much of a smiler, had no self confidence, hated dancing, had never pulled in a pub or club and thought that he was a rubbish gay man. I told him he just needed to pull himself together and said that if I could sleep with 10 men last year, he could pull one man so he went off, encouraged and decided to chat someone up. I’d promised I wouldn’t leave and I stood there smoking and drinking (he’d bought me a can of red stripe) when the DJ announced a competition – a prize for the first man to give him a pair of boxer shorts. These two women ran up to me immediately and said come on then, why don’t you go for it, so stupidly drunken me bends over (so my shirt can protect my modesty) takes off my shoes and trousers and pants and put back on my trousers – all in about 5 seconds. I won a CD (Andy Bell), a T shirt (medium), a pen, a key ring and a sweet. Great! The women made me put on the T Shirt which was tiny so by the end, every bit of my body had been exposed in one way or another.
Anyway Anthony was back – he’d been a failure apparently which wasn’t entirely true since he’d chatted to a couple of nice looking fellas and had been knocked back. But just chatting was OK. He had another attempt with probably the nicest man in the club and got ignored – which isn’t good at all – but let’s face it, when you’re aiming for the nicest man in the place, you have to expect it. Anyway we continued chatting and he was really nice and we agreed that we’d go out for a drink (not on a week day, he can’t drink when he’s working the next day!) and I’d try to help him stop being the worst gay man in the world. Then he went off again on the prowl and again I promised that I’d not leave while he was away and about 5 minutes later he was back saying he’d been chatting to someone and they were really nice so I told him off for coming and talking to me and told him he should go back which he did. I breathed a huge sigh of relief thinking, at last, I can go home to bed so I supped my can, collected my jacket and fucked off home. Getting into bed at 02.57. On a Sunday night. I am evil!!
posted by Matt @ 2:59 PM
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