Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Home on the range....

Ill skip straight past New Years eve, cause you guys won't be interested. The short version is me and my mates in an up market sports bar for the count down and an early night (2am) to be ready for the big night I had last night.
Homesexual. The party was hot.
Held in one of the cities superclubs on the edges of glorious Darling Harbor (Home Nightclub) the party is a highlight of most long weekends in Sydney. This particular night the crowd was made up of all the mixes of people that make a big party like this fun. Dude who had being going since long before the count down the night before through the recoveries and the big day party. Those who had slept through the countdown to do the Monday in style and last through the day party (Toybox) and onto the all nighter at Home. As well as those (like myself) who were fresh and ready to party through the night.
The music was banging in all areas, all tastes, styles and mental states were accounted for and you really could get lost in the sound scapes spilling through the corridors and vast dance spaces of this fantastic club.
The crowd was varied as would be expected at this kind of party. Campy little boys wearing leis and squarecut speedos, buff uber-gays with perfect tans and perfect abs, muscle boys and muscle men.
The crowd was happy and friendly, the place was packed but nobody cared. The condensed sweat of 2000 revelers collected on the ceiling and rained down on us like a summer storm as we bounced and grooved to the sounds pumping through our bodies.
Banging party, it was hot.
What made it better? I met a guy.
I know, I know....I usually meet a guy. And then tell yall about it right here. The sweat, the action, the climax. Not this time. This story is a lot more Not So Single Guy (well more like his previous incarnation as the Single Guy) but I want to share it with you anyway.

Cast you minds back with me to my first adventure out onto Oxford St. My hearts beating fast with nerves and exhilaration surrounded as I was by men, men, men. Gay men. I didn't really know where to go, or what to do. (Remembering that not only was I not used to any kind of gay scene but coming from a small town I had no idea how to act in the big city)
I was walking laps of oxford st, just soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying the scene. I make it to the top of oxford, near Taylor Square and get hit in the face. Not in any physical way, but the metaphorical hit between the eyes that you get when out of a crowd one guy just leaps out and smacks you one. This guy was hot. A brilliant smile and amazing alive eyes. Instinctively I smile at him, we catches me looking and stares back smiling broadly his eyes beaming.
Had this kind of thing happened today, I would have his number by the time the traffic lights had changed back to green. Back then all that happened was my heart beat faster and faster until the crowds moved on and he disappeared from view.
Later that night I walked (after having to prove my age to 3 security guards on the way in) up to the second story bar known as Gilligans (Yeah, who would have thought That was a gay bar!?!) Anyway, two steps into the half full cocktail bar and wham! who's the bartender? That guy. Who sees me instantly. (Imagine the look: Deer, headlights. Get the picture?) So, being a guy who doesn't actually drink I rock upto the bar trying to act cool and calm and well....non dorkish, and order a red bull.
I can't remember what was said. I remember I was trying to be flirty, and he was nice. But the conversation died pretty quickly as I stumbled over my tongue and made a hasty retreat to a corner of the bar. (Oh yeah, thats great...keep him wanting more, don't seem desperate) Being by myself in a cocktail bar full of groups and couples I kind of stood out like a sore thumb and felt very self conscious of the fact that I looked a bit daft sitting there not talking to anyone.
I kept making eye contact with the bar man, we were totally flirting across the room. I think in hindsight he was waiting for me to come back and approach him again, since as a bartender he couldn't leave the bar....but I never did. Finally he threw me a look which was frustrated and not so smiley.... Hindsight changes my view on that the time I thought he was annoyed at my constant attention and made a hasty retreat to the door and out to the night below. Thinking that Id pissed him off by staring at him.


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