Monday, June 04, 2007

20 hours with an Irishman

It's Monday morning, and I should be working.

I should be blogging about the exhibition opening I attended on Friday night (A Constructed World's idiosyncratically wonderful Increase Your Uncertainty at ACCA), or the somewhat subdued opening night of the play I went to thereafter (Hoy Polloy's production of Irish playwright Conor McPherson's Shining City). I could blog about the excellent Is Not magazine's second birthday party, which I attended on Saturday night as Miss Libertine, or the fun I had hanging out at Murmur that same evening, celebrating MsKP's 30th birthday in the company of many excellent bloggers and other peeps.

But no. I'm going to blog about the bloke I went home with on Saturday night, instead.

So there I am, happily tipsy after a cocktail, an absinthe and a couple of champagnes, leaning against a wall at Miss Libertine, happily surveying the crowd in the courtyard and thinking about nothing in particular, when a drunken brogue mutters, "You're that bloke what runs Q + A. I like what you're doing with MCV as well," into my ear.

Somewhat startled, I turn and see a stocky, dark-haired Irishman looking at me very intently, albeit somewhat blurrily. Very handsome in a scruffy sort of way (which is, you might have guessed, exactly my type - I don't go for show ponies). We talk. His mate turns up, who doesn't know that Mr Irish is bisexual, so I obfuscate. I'm not, at this stage, planning anything other than a conversation. But perhaps the half-a-pill I was given earlier has given me confidence, because out of the blue, I ask Irish if he wants to come home with me. To my surprise, he says yes.

We walk, we talk, we fall into bed and immediately both fall asleep. In the morning - and the afternoon - there are cuddles and conversations but, surprisingly, no sex, which suddenly seems unimportant. It's as if we've cut straight to the post-orgasmic afterglow and the 'getting to know you' sharing of intimacies instead of all that sweaty, awkward, first time fumbling. We sleep some more, talk some more, touch some more. Repeat. Rise at 2.20pm.

We walk into town. I decide to skip the debut performance by the Melbourne Complaints Choir. We have lunch instead, in Chinatown, then a drink afterwards. There is a sense of easy rapport with this man. We go back to his place in the city. We open a few beers and he plays me some of his favourite bands. We talk more, about films and relationships and moments of pure joy. He says he's not really looking for anything serious at the moment. I tell him I'm definitely on the market.

It's 7pm by now. Out for another bite to eat, then into the Exford Hotel for Guinness and cider and sitting at the bar listening to a covers band and talking some more, and laughing, and drinking, and then back to his place again.

At 10.30pm he walks me a couple of blocks to Spring Street so I can catch a tram and we kiss goodbye. I press my business card into his hand and ask him to call me. I hope he does. I'd like to see him again.

15 comments:

Mel said...

That's lovely to hear, Richard! Is Not Magazine parties: hooking people up since 2005.

Rach said...

What a weekend, Mr Watts. I was going to ask how the rest of your evening went. I hope he calls you, too.

Anonymous said...

wait! .. so you didn't even check out his cock?! .. what sort of a gay man are you! lol :-P

You must be at that age ... or really REALLY want a relationship

All the best

mskp said...

ha! i asked mel and rach to say my goodbyes for me, as i didn't want to interrupt what looked like an intense conversation at the edge of the dance floor. nice work - he was cute!

thanks for coming on satdee too. 'twas lovely to see your face x.

richardwatts said...

Jason - as to being 'at that age' - I think it had more to do with us bother being pretty pissed, then to hungover to shag. *grin*

richardwatts said...

Thanks Mel, thanks Rach - and KP, thank you for a lovely cocktail bar experience - definitely one I'll be going back to! I hope you had an excellent birfdee. *hug*

Tim Norton said...

So this is the reason for your coy turndown to my offer of coffee on Sunday morning. Go Mr Richard! Sounds like a truly delightful weekend. :)

Unknown said...

ooh how romantic! All the best! Has he called/messaged yet???

richardwatts said...

My apologies Tim, but as I said, I had a guest. I just didn't feel like mentioning he was lying in my bed at the time.

DUP - no, he hasn't - and if he's read this blog post, he probably won't, knowing my luck (although I have re-edited it to delete some of the details about him and his home which might identify him). I should keep my mouth shut sometimes. It's hard to know where to draw the line, sometimes, on such a personal blog as this. On the other hand, maybe he'll be flattered that he made such an impression. Time will tell. If I start posting lyrics by The Cure on, say, Thursday, you'll know he hasn't called.

Unknown said...

I was hoping to come back here to read that he has made contact. Bugger!

This isn't looking good for a Birthday Week! Only one more sleep!

richardwatts said...

My birthday's actually still a month away DUP - July 6, not June 6. :-)

Unknown said...

So it is Mr Watts, so it is! :-)

RRP said...

what a marvellous weekend!

kinda played like one of those romantic movies... i can see hugh grant playing your part ;)

Anonymous said...

Go Richard!

But yes, I think sometimes the less said the better. Which now stops me from delivering my speech (based on recent experience):
Men Who don't Ring and the People Who Wait for Them.

Do you think Overland would be interested?

richardwatts said...

In light of a conversation tonight, it should be pointed out that this is entirely MY impression of the night, and so may not be entirely accurate of the situation; especially when seen from a certain Hibernian point of view...