Red wine will be my downfall
A tall, good-looking, dark-haired guy caught my eye at some stage and we soon established a rapport that promised more than just a friendly chat. He looked vaguely familiar but I dispelled the possibility of having met him before as he told me that he was South African and, until very recently (two weeks ago) when I met another one, I was sure that I was the only South African moffie on the local gay scene.
Later, trying to find his place (unsuccessfully), I remember him looking at me incomprehensibly when I spoke to him in Afrikaans. Trying to get home was of more importance to me than wondering why he couldn’t understand me so I didn’t give it a second thought. After two wrong turns, I suggested going back to my place may be a better idea. He agreed.
Lying in bed together in the morning, both of us holding mugs of hot coffee that I’d just made, I asked him his name.
‘You know me,’ he said.
‘Sorry, I’m sure you told me your name last night but I've forgotten it,’ I said, slightly embarrassed.
‘My name is R,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t mean that. You know me.’
‘I don’t think so. How?’
‘I’m B’s boyfriend,’ he said.
I looked at him more carefully and realised that, indeed, he was B’s boyfriend. Oops!!
B is quite a good friend of mine but he's been out of circulation for a while since meeting R. Although I’d been introduced to him before and probably seen him out with B on two or three occasions, I’ve not actually socialised with B since R's been on the scene. Now I realised why he’d looked familiar the night before but I'd genuinely not recognised him. And his pulling my leg about being South African (he’s actually from Derby), hadn’t helped my alcohol-addled mind recognise him.
Oops, oops, oops!
He left about an hour later, forgetting his socks at my place. That afternoon we had two intense text conversations in which he asked me not to mention our having gone home together to anyone, let alone B.
I have no intention to.
For those of you who've read my previous episodes arising from too much red wine (*) before going out for the night, you are right if you’re wondering if this particular episode can be blamed on too much red wine.
(*) My troubles with too much red wine: