London Loves II

I'm on the train back from London after the weekend.

These posts are starting to get repetitive perhaps.

It was a fantastic weekend. One of the best yet perhaps. But one not without potential pitfalls, skillfully (or just plain fortunately) avoided.

For the weekend I had two boys on the go. When I say 'boys', clearly they are legal. Boys is just a generic term to apply to any attractive but probably younger than me, lad with whom I want to do bonking. A friend of mine, when I reported that I was seeing my lastest ex, responded with "he shall be shorter than you, younger than you and quite possibly a student". I had to concede on all three, though the height point really is a non-point. At 6'4" it is rare that I wake up with anyone taller than me. I think in my life to date it has only happened twice, and one of those was an entirely accidently, intoxicated, utterly regretable incident with someone who I have remained good friends.

Anyhow, you may recall from my 'single again' posting that I broke up because I let myself get caught being snogged by someone else. Yes, these posts are getting repetitive. But, that 'someone else' was in London on Saturday. All of which would have been all fine and lovely had I not found a boy to snog on Friday night. And, in the true and proper nature of the way the earth turns, both of these boys should be thrown into the same nightclub as myself on Saturday night.

Friday-night-boy I saw in the queue and we had a chat and a snog and then met up again later inside where we had a snog and a chat. Repetitive much. Break-me-up-boy I saw outside. He had, gallantly, chivallrously, left the club to walk a girl to a bus-stop and was not allowed back in the club. So he waited around outside, where I met him and we had a chat and a snog. Repetition again. Even the repetition is getting repetitive.

One of the things that annoys me is that I am incapable of recognising them if it is dark or I am drunk. Both the Friday-night-boy and the break-me-up-boy were pointed out to me - on the second occasion - by my friend, with something along the lines of "isn't that your...", obviously a dig at me and my ubiquity, promiscuity etc. but also strangely giving me some kind of ownership over them, as though they are mine and no-one else's. Which of course they are not. They are many, many, countless other boys with at least as good if not greater claim over the lives of these creatures who obviously aren't allowed to own their own lives, pasts and destinies.

Ultimately I had sex with neither. Perhaps for the best. Though who knows, one day maybe. And then I can disappoint absolutely.