I sat next to this girl at a table, and she was actually flirting with me. It didn’t help that I sat with my hand on the table and knocked my ring into the wood, she didn’t even notice. Some people are thick.

The Flirtation
Eugene de Blaas’ “The Flirtation” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I suppose that the next time this happens I should take out my bag, put it on the table and very overtly take out Gay Times from it. Except I don’t buy that magazine. Maybe I should start to, just so I could whip it out at strategic times so I don’t actually have to say anything.

In the end I had to tell her, flat out, that I’m married and off the market. Then she left in a huff. I think I made “a special friend” today in other words. The school year gets going to a good start; I piss someone off and embarrass them on the very first day. Good going, me.

No, I’m not so full of myself that I think that every girl who looks at me wants me. With this one, you could feel the female pheromones wafting through the air. It was so obvious that even a gay-boy like I could register it.

It is the fate of such gay-boys to have to come out over and over and over again, of course. I think that’s the most annoying bit. To always evaluate some person, and then come out to that new person, and then have to handle their reaction.

Was he or she angry? Did they look for a way to escape the gay cooties? Did she or he try to make a joke to show how tolerant they were? Was it just plain embarrassing, like in this case with this girl?


Photo credit: Wikipedia

A new school always means getting lost in strange hallways. This was no different. I ended up in a corridor with only two doors, at each end. It took me ten minutes to get back to familiar bits of the school. One of the doors had a code lock on it, and wouldn’t budge. I hope I didn’t set off some alarm somewhere, and that I’ll be reported for using very foul language to the door.

Ben has written a soliloquy about little boy lost to celebrate my misfortunes in strange hallways. The same little boy lost who is a lady’s magnet. Sometimes my friends mock me mercilessly.

I don’t know why I’m friends with them. Actually, I do, but at this point in time I prefer to think of them, and in particular Ben, as horridly and unscrupulously mean and unfair. Not that Abbie didn’t get in on the chance to put down Colin.

Abbie was more carnal. He just laughed hard for ten minutes when he heard about the girl, and kept suggesting that I should over-come my gay fancies and score. “How is it that you get all the girls,” he says. As if this happens all the time… In all my years in college there was only one girl that was really interested in me, and she crashed and burned when she tried to make that known to me. It’s not like most girls don’t go “oh god, here’s that idiot again”. Yet they mock…

Abbie seems more relaxed and calm. Now that the stress and tension of his parents finding out about his gayness, it seems like a lot of his high strung nerves have gone. Or maybe he has grown up over the summer, or maybe he bought a bit of self-confidence from somewhere. Maybe I should ask him where.


English: The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dum...
The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas (illustration of the Appleton edition). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Official school business today was more about learning where everything was, and who everyone was. I got a tutor, my own tutor, and everything. It’s going to be her and me, with five or six other people, that will traverse these four years together until I get my degree.

The first year will be like in college. We’ll study units, and we’ll have to writer papers about those units. Next year, we should be more free to study on our own. In year three we’ll have work placements. Yes, even the English department will have work placements. Then in year four it will be about the degree itself, and I will have to decide if I’ll go on to get a master’s or not.

Like the song says, what use is a BA in English? Not much. My whole point of getting into a place like Oxford or Cambridge was to, if I could, avoid having to go another extra two or three years to get a Master’s. Now I may have to, because a degree in English is probably utterly useless.

And here’s the song I mentioned above.

Hopefully I won’t have to sing this song from the same musical.