It has been a while since I last won the gay lottery. Well, a couple of months, really.
I have avoided writing about this because... okay, I was waiting for him to call. He didn't. I never really expected him to, but you now how it is. Every now and then... Anyway, several men have flowed under bridges since then, and I've decided that he's simply moved back to Australia. But, just in case, I'm avoiding the pub he works in for the rest of my life.
Anyway, he was brilliant. For a start, he didn't just work in a gay bar, but was "Boyz Bar Stud Of The Week". That's right. I was shagging Boyz Bar Stud Of The Week. Read that and weep, 20 year-old me.
He was too good to be true. Eerily so. Apart from being good-looking and Australian, and a post-graduate psychologist, he worked behind a bar, had effort hair and spent about an hour going through my DVD collection giving things marks out of five. Plus his idea of pillow talk was to explain X-Men continuity to me.
And, as I said, sadly, he didn't call.