Shag-o-the-week award does not, surprisingly go to the TV director with the Vauxhall apartment and the vintage scotch. Nor does it go to the South African musician who came round during a thunderstorm, although nearly.
Nah. The award goes to Mick the Aberdeen Squaddie. Although, he's no longer a Squaddie. Or married. He now works in "corporate restructuring" ("basically, when they need a hard bastard to do the firing, they call me.").
There's something really entertaining about a man who enters the flat with a lit fag and asks why the wine isn't open yet. And whose briefcase contains the grim future of a sales department, a laptop and some nipple clamps.
As well as his boyfriend, Mick is also having an affair with a Saudi prince. "It's great when we go to the airport. He's surrounded by bodyguards and flunkies, and there's me yelling at him to carry his own luggage. He likes that."
So there's Mick - ran away from a remote Scottish fishing village at 18, joined the army, had a lot of sex with boys, got married, moved to London, stopped being married, and is now being flown around the world first class by his royal lover.
I love being gay. We're entertaining. And Mick also managed to solve something from Queer As Folk that's been puzzling me for years.