Saturday, 2 June 2007

The Touch Typed Diary - Men

Some background to what follows can be found here. Other installments are here.

I started this as a way to train at touch typing (hence the title) which I have finally taken up learning more or less seriously. At first I was typing what nonsense came across my mind and deleted it once I had finished. Gradually, it just turned into a diary relating the events (not very numerous) of my life. This has also the advantage of keeping me relatively busy at work when I have nothing else to do which seem to happen rather frequently these days.

25 March 2002

The previous weekend had seen me going to the Box with J. on Friday night. I was on my way out when B. proposed that I took her out for a drink as he was going to work and she was feeling a bit down. It took us a long time to get there as we had troubles finding a space to park the car. Once there we managed to find a table and started to chat while checking out the boys.

At some point a guy literally dumped himself on the chair next to me were I had left my coat. He then proceeded to stare at J. and finally introduced himself. His behaviour was quite strange a bit like he was drunk. He told us some ridiculous things like the fact that he was tired because he owned a bakery. But when I asked him whether he would be going to work soon, he said he had staff working for him. J. and I proceeded to ignore him and he finally left. As the bar was closing, we had a stroll in Soho and then made our way home.

I went for a run on Saturday morning and decided to make my route longer so that I would be at it for about an hour. I had to take a nap in the afternoon.

I went to Heaven that night but did not really enjoy it. I left after only two hours although it felt like I had been there for 3 to 4 hours! It was not altogether a waste of time though as I was checked out by several guys and even had a smile.

I was looking at a group of guys some of which I thought had been looking at me earlier when I noticed a guy dancing between me and the group. He was slightly smaller than I am and even though not strikingly beautiful, he was rather handsome in a discreet Jewish sort of way. Our eyes met several times and I finally smiled at him and he smiled back. I was already imagining how things would develop from there when the guy that was with him drag him away from the dance floor and out of the room. The guy looked back at me once or twice but it was so unexpected that I did not even think about following him. It was still quite early anyway and I thought that he would come back after a while so I decided to wait there. He did not come back though and I decided to go around the club to see if I could find him but to no avail…
I met T. at the bus stop in Aldwich and we got back home together.

On Sunday, I went to a meeting of the reading group. The book we were discussing did not really raise the enthusiasm of the masses and we soon drifted to other subjects. We got so engrossed that three hours later we were still at it. The longest meeting we have ever had by far.

The next day, I got an e-mail from F, the German member, telling me that he could not wait for the next meeting to see me and asking me for a drink.

We had decided to meet at 2 at the statue of Oscar Wilde behind St Martin in the Fields and then go to see an exhibition at the National Gallery on Baroque Paintings in Genoa. When we got to the museum the crowd was streaming out very tightly packed. This was due to a fire alarm, which we were told would mean the museum would be closed for at least half an hour.

We decided to go to a cafe and enjoy the sunshine on a terrace. After erring for a while, not able to find any suitable place (we went all the way to Old Compton!) we ended up at the Box, yes the dear old Box! and spent 2 hours there chatting or rather have a discussion as we talked about rather serious things. We then retraced our way to the NG and viewed the exhibition and had a bit of a wander around the galleries (The exhibition is nothing to write home about really, as it comprises about 20 paintings and a film).

The museum was closing at six, so we were promptly thrown out.

We decided to head back to Old Compton to have something to eat and ended up at the Stockpot, a tiny cheap place towards the unfashionable end of the street. Once our strength rebuilt, F. suggested that we go and see a film: Gosford Park, the latest Robert Altman. So off we went. Although the plot is very predictable (I can not see how they got an Oscar for best Screenplay), it is a good film with a nice depiction of the life in a large country house. If you liked Remains of the Day, you will enjoy this film as well.

I have now seen the 4 last films by Altman (Short Cuts, Pret a Porter, Cookie's Fortune and Gosford Park) and I am become a real fan I have to say.

Anyway, when I got back home it was past 11.

It was a very enjoyable afternoon and we both agreed that we should do it again. I am still a bit concerned about F.'s motives though. And if I am certain that I will not want anything more than friendship with him (and it is more than a lack of physical attraction, I am not attracted to him in any way), I am not convinced that he is ready to stop there.... I did drop a hint though, regarding musclely guys (we were at newsagent and saw the cover of a bodybuilding magazine. The guy on the picture was really massive and I pointed him out to F. who said he could not get it. I said I could or rather I wished I could get it!).

On Sunday I felt a bit depressed about the whole business. I think this was one of the first dates I had ever been (or if it was not one I think it is very close to being one, probably because of the way I perceive F.'s motivations) and I had felt like cuddling at the cinema; not because it was F. but because I was alone in the dark with a nice guy and that is what you do in those circumstances and that is what I long to be able to do with a special someone.

Once again, I am very close to the special someone but it is not him and it feels like it is never going to happen.

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