The ex and I decided we ought to go out on a date.
So on Saturday we went to the London zoo.
The tickets were pricey, the aquarium average, the bug house shoddy, the reptile house excellent, the gorillas hugely over hyped while the big cats largely ignored.
I’m pleased and proud to state that at the zoo I smoked 3 fags even though I was out numbered 8-1 by kids from all four quarters.
We went too late to visit the petting zoo (rats). I wanted to cuddle a rabbit but was forced to settle for a sheep (albeit very cute). So like my life, always late and always settling.
Met Nikki, one of the ex’s friends at a bar in Soho and then moved on to this new gay venue sponsored by Gaydar Radio uk called ‘Principles’: A very slick, quite camp, über gay production which was like walking into an orange clone of the pink G-A-Y bar.
There were two Amazonian, transvestites standing at the bar, gleaming, glossy and sparking; Lending an air of glamour to the other wise fairly formulaic venue.
The smokers were placed outside in a velvet roped pen every time they went out for a fag. Their glasses were confiscated and replaced with plastic cups (because you see, as a smoker we’re a very dangerous lot and much more likely to start glassing one another in a nicotine deprived rage).
I made sure I blew all my smoke in through the open door.
On principle I now try and make sure I do that with all non-smokers. Pre-ban I was a most civilized smoker. I moved away, I sat downwind, I even apologized for my vice. But no more! No more Miss Nice Marlboro.
A camp Indian boy with shoulder length floppy hair (very Munt we all thought) was there with a guy sporting an ever stylish mono-brow, both dancing around gaily (no pun intended).
The dancing evolved into a pelvic grinding and thrusting,
That turned into a groping, fondling lap dance,
Which in turn mutated into a frenzied session of dry humping.
At one point Munt’s doppelgänger had both legs straddled across mono-brow’s hips and was being pumped back and forth like a piston.
The both pulled away covering their groins and complaining ‘jokingly’ about their respective hard-ons.
Really, how anyone not love a gay bar folks? Even if it is non smoking now (assholes.)