Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Back on the Horse

What is the acceptable time period between splitting up with your long term partner and turning one's mind to the unfairer sex?

I mean, in the high-kicking world of the Gentlemen Who Watch Too Many Awards Ceremonies, the average time is about, well... to be honest they often just over-lap - we're not a proud breed, it has to be said. Like rats up a drainpipe, even. But I now have to consider that horror upon horrors: dating. Or more correctly, talking to new men in the hope of 'getting somewhere'.

And, thankfully, I don't mean Guilford.

It's been four years since I've been 'back on the horse', as it where, putting myself out there on the singles scene. I was heartened to discover it hasn't changed that much - there's still the offer of an unglamorous shunting in a back alleyway after a few drinks with a 'concerned friend'; there you are, left raising your eyes skyward, wondering why-oh-why you insist on letting yourself get into these situations as you wipe his 'coughed yoghurt' off the back of your legs with a McDonalds napkin.

For the baser urges, one can turn to that perennial dating site for the Gentleman Who Can't Catch: Gaydar, Gaydar and Sons. For those of you few heteromosexual readers out there (I know there's one or two, I can smell your Joop) I shall explain: you set up a page nigh-on setting up your stall for all gentlemen callers, who then swing by and drop off positive comments on your personality and interests like 'Wot U lookin 4 m8?' and 'Free now lets bareback'. All good, wholesome stuff.

But I've never been any good in filling those page things out. What do I want in a partner? Someone who'll get rid of spiders, and laugh when they catch me miming to Baccara on my iPod, with all the movements. There's no tick-box for that sort of thing on the site. And when writing one's profile, is it a significant fact about me that I happen to keep my sewing kit next to my pornography?

Perhaps I don't need gaydar, I need something a little more... mature. Matronly. Is there such a thing as 'Chintz-Dar'; Lord knows I'm more than often inclined to put a doily down before I Have The Sex. Who wouldn't, when you've deigned to go back with some chunky necklaced navvy, who's serving warm rose wine out of mismatched glassware before ducking out to 'wash it under the tap' as you're left staring around the council flat at the peeling wallpaper, and dog-eared copies of Buffy The Vampire Slayer on VHS wondering if he's actually been and got some lubrication or whether that bottle of cooking oil is going to be slapped up your undercarriage in about ten minutes time without so much as a by-your-leave.

(pauses)

(clutches pearls)

Oh my, I think I've just convinced myself I should do it.

I'm not just 'getting back on the horse', it's going to be the Grand National!

17 comments:

Erinna said...

After my horrible breakup, I wasted no time in getting back out there.

Within a month, I had posted profiles on match and yahoo, allowed friends to set me up, and yeah, hit the bars.

It wasn't always pretty, but it did the trick; prevented me from wallowing in self pity. Too much. ;) And eventually, one of those dating sites did lead me to a wonderful relationship.

My point? It can't hurt. :)

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Please tell me it wasn't describing the navvy that convinced you?

First Nations said...

...no, it had to be the salad oil and the wallpaper.
hell, it did it for me.

Wanton Wonton said...

that sounds fabulous, dahling. keep your chin up...your hot ass won't be single long... wink wink nudge nudge....

love,
miss wanton

CyberPete said...

So the horse is names Guilford or?

You are SO right, McDonalds napkins should be beneath you. Now Burger King napkins - that's class!

:oD

Qenny said...

I think a reasonable period of mourning is called for, perhaps involving a re-enactment of your sluttier periods of youthful folly, assuming you had some. Oh, hang on, your a gay man, of course you had some! It's a good idea to keep that mourning slutty vibe going, too, because it can be very effective armour if a one-nighter who was only ever going to be a one-nighter suddenly starts sending you roses. Or Quality Street. And steering you past jehoolery shops. That's when you play the "I'm really sorry, but it's too soon, and I'm just not ready for a relationship" card.

You should be able to get away with that for at least six months.

On a more serious note, go out, have fun, don't look for anything. That's when something lovely happens. There's nothing more off-putting than a man with sad hunger in his eyes; nor anything more attractive than a man who is enjoying being himself.

craggles said...

Flipsy..off to THe Pavlovs Gay Lost Dogs Home and look for the most needy set of baby blues...kill'em son
Craggles(OZ)

First Nations said...

yes, back on that horse!
horse on that back? horses on their backs? back up to that horse?...never mind.

Gareth said...

Anyone who can lypsynch and doing the moves to Baccara is a catch in my opinion.

Nick said...

That's why us gays stay in contact with previous boyfriends, there's always a shag just a phonecall away

Perry Neeham said...

gaydar is frighteningly like real life: 25% revulsion, 50% boredom, 20% 'OK, anyone can make a mistake' and 5% serious (if short term) bliss. See you there!

Lippy said...

Given our shared fascination for a bit of rough - we need to investigate further the question; "why do bits of rough always wash it under the tap first wheras nice middle class boys don't bother??"

Maybe I should just change my name to Lady Chatterly and have done!

Miss Mish said...

Darling - that's what a fag-hag is for. Let her take you out to theatrical sort of places to meet up with friends and before you know, you're happily in a dressing room witha minor soap star swapping bitch-tales about La Collins.

Dantallion said...

Just make sure it's olive oil and not Mazola. Much better for the complexion, and adds a touch of decorum to the event.

AndyT13 said...

Good luck dear! I'm sure you'll be shagging away in no time.
What the hell's Joop?
Some sort of perfume only straight men wear? Must be a British thing.
I'm going to wallow in my own breakup misery now. Beer and my Fender stratocaster shall be my only companions. Them and the bar slut parade following me around.
Feh.

Martie said...

So any thoughts as to how a girl gets back on her (straight) horse, after stallion has bolted? Surely, it would be about the same?

Spike said...

Lippy said: we need to investigate further the question; "why do bits of rough always wash it under the tap first wheras nice middle class boys don't bother??"

Yers. Inquiring minds want to know.