My partner and I went out Saturday night with the intention of attending one of the gay-specific (pre-)Carnival events. We missed it. But we did end up in one of our preferred music bars later in the evening. This particular place caters to a gay clientele but also garners a significant heterosexual following because of its excellent music and friendly atmosphere.
My partner made the acquaintance of a couple from the UK who had ensconced themselves at a table. The usual intoxicated greetings were exchanged, including names which were forgotten. I'll call them J and C. J is a young man from near Birmingham. If he were gay he would be on the young extreme of exactly my type: stocky, chiseled, tough-ish (I should add here in case he ever reads this: I find the fact that he's not gay an absolute turn off). His fiance, C is possibly one of the loveliest women ever produced by the British Isles. She's well-proportioned and blonde with a sweet yet outgoing disposition. And the two of them are absolutely devoted to one another.
They were biding their time until they could meet up with a bartender friend at another bar which didn't open until later. Within five minutes my partner had invited them come up to our flat for a drink while we waited for the other bar to open. We didn't know these guys from Adam. They very well could have been modern Europe's answer to Bonnie and Clyde. But they weren't, not that I didn't quietly boil with angst about the possibility all night long.
Actually they were absolutely wonderful guests. We had a great time hanging out with them. Thankfully they didn't seem too bothered about the mess in the flat. (If it were up to me, I wouldn't invite anyone to the flat unless I had specifically spent at least a day cleaning in anticipation.) C needed to crash for a while (Spanish bars open much later and Spanish alcohol portions are much more generous than those in the UK). So we three guys hung out and talked.
J turned out to be a great guy. Thankfully he was confidant enough in his sexuality to not be threatened by a couple of fags. In fact, when it became apparent that C's nap was going to eat through his chance to meet his friend he was cool enough to accompany me to the club and then another gay bar afterward. It's always good for one's street cred to show up at the late a.m. sauna bar with a handsome aparently straight guy. We ultimately didn't find his friend and ended up heading back to the flat in the predawn hours (he only slightly shaken from being cruised hard at the sauna). Before those of you with dirty minds conjure up images of a menage a quatre, they slept on the blow-up bed in the living room.
So while I do find my partner's outgoing behavior bizarre, even reckless, it does often yield enjoyable results. How often does one get to spend his Valentines Day bar crawling with a handsome straight couple?
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