Originally uploaded by Little Miss Lucy.
We are having a public holiday here in the States for President's Day. Obviously this celebrates the birthday of every President who ever was, or ever will be, or perhaps it's in honor of Abe Lincoln's birthday or maybe just George Washington's. I don't know, I'm obviously fuzzy on the details.
But so far I am remembering with distinct clarity that it is Lexie's birthday tomorrow and so late yesterday afternoon, around 4.30pm to be precise, we headed off to sing show tunes with the boys at Sidetracks, the glorious gay bar down the road from us.
We have been there several times, and I really do love it. The theatrical personalities of the wannabe stage & screen stars around me just has to be seen to be believed. Some of the guys even know all the dance routines and they work together to put on amateur performances right in front of you. Naturally you must applaud enthusiastically at the end. And so that's how we found ourselves, two straight girls singing just as loudly as all the gay boys, to hits from such Broadway spectaculars as "Hairspray" and "Grease" and, of course, "Cabaret". Liza would have been proud.
I sat on a bench around the dancefloor next to a guy named M, whose partner of some 16 years was at home because he doesn't like smoky environments. We talked about M's upcoming trip to Venice and Florence to celebrate his 40th birthday. Given that they are 2 of my favourite cities on earth, conversation between us flowed very easily. The boys met in England where they were both studying, so already I felt happy that I had met another happy traveller. And as long as I kept minding M's seat when he went to the men's room, he would always come back via the bar with vodka slushies for each of us. What a deal!
And so here's the thing. I gave him my phone number. Now before you start hollering and carrying on in the vein of "oh no, not again, what have we told you about doing that..." surely this is a good thing. A smart and friendly gay man who has a good job, is good to his family, has a steady boyfriend, loves to travel, was hit on about 4 different guys last night (who also told me I was gorgeous - ah bless), AND wants to buy me drinks - hello, he might just be MY Mr Wonderful haha.
But seriously, while stuffiing a steak burrito in my face afterwards (if you can't have a Rundle St yiros, this will have to do), I was reflecting on the fact that I made a new friend. My decision to give M my number wasn't about vodka-slushie brain freeze. M and his boyfriend will have some great stories to share with me about their travels - particularly to Italy, where they have already been four other times. And if I ever Moulin Rouge comes back on at Sidetrack, at least I know that he will sing the Ewan McGregor parts, and sometimes a girl needs that.