Just a quick post today, as the effort required to keep my head vertical and my train of thought is massive today, after a heavy night on the town. I have lived in Brighton for over 5 years now and one of my proud achievements is that I have never set foot in the local, straight, teenyish, Saturday night meat market known as ‘The Event’, a case of false advertising if ever there was one; but last night I walked through its doors. It was someone’s birthday and they wanted to go there; being a parent and not getting the chance to go out very much, I think they liked the idea of a nostalgic night out, a throwback to their younger days of not having to worry about babysitters.

So there I was; my usual Saturday night environ of hard house and shirtless guys was temporarily replaced by R&B and smart shirts. While I stood there drinking an ominously coloured bottle of whatever the latest alcopop on offer was (hey, it was bought for me), it struck me how much there now exists a straight ‘clone’. Now we’re all familiar with the idea of the ‘gay clone’, but filling up the mainstream straight clubs in a town centre near you is the straight equivalent, and it’s even camper! It all seems to be about low hung, faded jeans, big studded belt, brightly coloured, long-sleeved T-shirt, and the kind of silly hair that even the New Romantics wouldn’t have dared attempt. While more and more gay men seem to copying a straight archetype and pulling on sports kit and reaching for the clippers (it always makes me laugh how some gay men almost pull off this look until they start walking!), the straights are more than happy to camp it up; heels and lipstick can’t be far away.

So then I met Ben; who fits into this category perfectly. He knew someone in our group and we got chatting. I couldn’t stop looking at his hair and wondering exactly how much time and wax it must take to create that shape. He’s a uni student, very cute, an almost pristine appearance, and after watching him walk to the bar in his low hung jeans and visible CK’s, I decided a nice arse. On his way back from the bar I realised he has quite a package too! He mentioned something about a girlfriend, but she wasn’t there and he ended up coming with us to continue partying at my friend’s flat. We ended up on the sofa together, he’d had far too many cans, looked a bit unstable and kept rambling on about stuff, particularly his girlfriend. The next thing I knew we were kissing. He was very drunk and it was a bit too wet, but it was nice and pretty exciting actually. It didn’t lead to anything and he passed out soon after, but at least I got to feel his cock and yes it was big!

This was going to be a short post, and I do really need to go and lie down. It did amuse me, though, that I spent the night at one of the straightest clubs and end up getting off with a very gay looking ‘straight’ guy. Well, you know what they say about no smoke without fire…