Saturday night, London, Heaven, apparently THE gay club to go to. I had only heard of this place before. My mate who is bi and just split up with his four-year girlfriend wanted to go and we went with a few of his friends too.
It was fun for the first 2-3 hours. We drank and we danced and all. But when the alcohol started to wear off and my blood sugar dropped I couldn't ignore the staring eyes anymore - the men standing on the side with drink in hand, scanning for the next pair of eyes that stared back. The DJ was no good either, using the monotonous, half-hearted drum and bass tracks to mix with pop songs. No wonder people had to take drugs in this place to get high. The place just didn't live up to its reputation. Maybe we picked a shit night to go.
"Did your top come off?" Rob texted.
There were a lot of gay boys (and men) breaking it down with their tops off, some in better shapes than the others. But I wasn't one of them. Firstly because I am quite self conscious even after a few drinks. Secondly the more skin you show the more desperate you look. And thirdly I couldn't do it when my mate, who I've known for ten years, was there.
No I didn't cop off with a random. A year ago I would have made that the main objective and done the scanning thing on the dance floor. I think I find people more attractive when they don't look so...full of lust. One of the friends of my friend was a little Italien lady who didn't speak much English and wasn't into the music so she was standing on the side a lot. But every now and then some guy would come up to talk to her because she looked a bit lost. Those were the ones I wanted to pull to the side and suck on their faces.