"The Bride Wore Black Leather... And He Looked Fabulous" is a guide to gay etiquette.
The reason for the google search was my temporary friend Mo. It was a Friday. I was drunk. And yet strangely functional considering I'd been drinking wine since the afternoon. And Mo and I were heading home. Only...
"We should get someone else," said Mo.
"Right," I said. Years ago, I would have been baffled by this. Like being asked the difference between bio and non-bio. But with age comes enough experience and pink t-shirts. "Right," I said. "Let's find someone we can agree on."
This is where a guide to gay etiquette could come in handy. There really has to be a printed guide somewhere as to what to say and how to cope. In the same way that whenever someone on the Orange Facebook asks "wot u in 2?" and I feel like typing "Chinese Buffets and Duke Ellington."
So Mo and I end up giggling like geishas in front of a gay who looks like a sailor from a Jean-Paul Gaultiere advert. Well, okay. Clearly this was a few years ago and Jean-Paul didn't give him any free moisturiser, but there was still a lot of arms spilling out of his wife-beater. Win.
And he was looking at us. Mildly interested. But also carefully bored.
"Say something," hissed Mo.
"You're younger, you say something."
"Come on, please."
"He. Is. Staring."
This is daft. I can't even bear to ask for the salt at dinner parties, and I'm figuring I've already managed to chat up one stranger and there's really no self-deprecating way of asking this. I need something that doesn't allow me to display any of my true character. So, I figure, about four words.
NO: "Hi... what's your name and how does troilism strike you?"
NO: "Having a good evening? [endless small talk] Umm. Well, anyway enjoy London."
NO: "My friend fancies you. And, funnily enough..."
In the end, I settle on: "We're going home. Coming?"