Before I unplugged the phone...
this morning, I got a call that made my eyebrow shoot right up.
One of the gays, we will call him Country Gay or perhaps CG, is throwing an 'impromptu' party tomorrow, and I am invited. So too is my er...hmmm, I want to say lover, but that smacks of twee, but I can't think of what else to call him. I loathe the word boyfriend and feel I am too old for one. Partner makes me think of work, and chum doesn't really soar, now does it?
Paramour, that will do. Anyway, he is invited too-by name no less. This is strange, because I don't recall ever mentioning his name to CG, or any of the other Gs either. But then the gays are like dolphins that way, sneakier than you would give them credit for.
Dilemma then. I'm not sure that I want to subject my paramour to one of their parties this early in our relationship.
The last one I attended ended up in uproar; there were two fights, tears, accusations of infidelity, drunken weeping, terrible dancing, one partial vomit and one actual, the gardai were called eventually and everyone ended up out on the street at half five in the morning dazed and confused. Some of us went home, the rest of the party went to Capel street to an early house. The cops were called again. A Norwegian was tearfully arrested.
To this day it is still spoken in shuddering hushed terms.
Now, I'm not gong to try an pretend I am some delicate flower here, I can tear it up with the best, but those nights are few and far between. No matter what resolve beforehand, these parties always end up like a Viking maruading celebration. Gordan Gheko styled excess is de rigeur.
And then there is the paramour, he has asked once or twice, very casually now, when he might get to meet some of my friends. He suggested a dinner maybe.
That is fine, but who do you ask? I can imagine the calls the next day if I ask this one, or that, but not this one. Dinners can be a little stiff and staid, I prefer dinner not to be an introduction.
I am stalling.
No, this party might actually serve a purpose, rather like teaching a chap to swim by flinging him in the deep end and releasing the piranas.
EEKKK!
One of the gays, we will call him Country Gay or perhaps CG, is throwing an 'impromptu' party tomorrow, and I am invited. So too is my er...hmmm, I want to say lover, but that smacks of twee, but I can't think of what else to call him. I loathe the word boyfriend and feel I am too old for one. Partner makes me think of work, and chum doesn't really soar, now does it?
Paramour, that will do. Anyway, he is invited too-by name no less. This is strange, because I don't recall ever mentioning his name to CG, or any of the other Gs either. But then the gays are like dolphins that way, sneakier than you would give them credit for.
Dilemma then. I'm not sure that I want to subject my paramour to one of their parties this early in our relationship.
The last one I attended ended up in uproar; there were two fights, tears, accusations of infidelity, drunken weeping, terrible dancing, one partial vomit and one actual, the gardai were called eventually and everyone ended up out on the street at half five in the morning dazed and confused. Some of us went home, the rest of the party went to Capel street to an early house. The cops were called again. A Norwegian was tearfully arrested.
To this day it is still spoken in shuddering hushed terms.
Now, I'm not gong to try an pretend I am some delicate flower here, I can tear it up with the best, but those nights are few and far between. No matter what resolve beforehand, these parties always end up like a Viking maruading celebration. Gordan Gheko styled excess is de rigeur.
And then there is the paramour, he has asked once or twice, very casually now, when he might get to meet some of my friends. He suggested a dinner maybe.
That is fine, but who do you ask? I can imagine the calls the next day if I ask this one, or that, but not this one. Dinners can be a little stiff and staid, I prefer dinner not to be an introduction.
I am stalling.
No, this party might actually serve a purpose, rather like teaching a chap to swim by flinging him in the deep end and releasing the piranas.
EEKKK!
posted by fatmammycat at 10:03 a.m.
13 Comments:
Can your beau tap-dance or throw knives? If so, get him to do a little show for your friends. You could be the compere and double-up as his stage assistant. I suspect the gays would love it.
Good morning GB, Alas I don't think he can. But he has got really amazing arms and a yowza dip in his chest(you can pool oil into it is so deep) I think I'm going to suggest he wears a tight white t-shirt.
That ought to set the cat amongst the peacocks.
Jesus, I've got to get back to work, I can feel the saliva gathering in the corner of my mouth even thinking about him naked. Ridiculous, it's like being back in school.
Make sure you're with your beloved at all times, FMC, or he might find the party a pain in the arse.
You think someone might fall in to him Footie? Nah, but he will get casually pawed a lot. It is going to be a baptism of fire, I can feel it in my toes.
If you have any intentions of this relationship lasting, then he needs to know the kind of parties you like going to - either so he can join in or so that he can say "off you go dear, I'll stay here and do another Sudoku puzzle"
If you try and keep a part of who you are hidden from him, then you'll never know if he accepts you as you, or is only with you because you present him with an edited ideal.
Or is this too serious an answer...
I'm not sure 'the parties I like to go to' is accurate. They always start off fine, it's just how they turn out and it is never my doing.
My original post was tongue in cheek-ish. But you have a point Kim.
I do like ths chap a lot actually, he is handsome, but not classically so, he is of a slightly different background to me, more middle-class, less bohemian, likes his parents and was never expelled from school or anything boorish like that.
Now, that said, we share an awful lot of the same views and have tremendous fun. He is very calm and together and really...masculine. You know? A full-on proper man, confident without being cocky, nice without being a walk over, firm without being overbearing.
Golly, I think he is the real deal and I am horribly smitten.
I'm not sure what I dittering about really. It is entirely my own doing, I'm too used to the compartments kept separate in life. I'm not sure how to mesh them all together. This weekend might be an eye opener.Don't worry I will warn him of what to expect.
"A Norwegian was tearfully arrested." I love that line.
I'm going to use that line somehow this weekend, but I'll make sure and give you the copyright.
Every aspect of my life has always been all mashed up together, so I'm not sure what to tell you about attending this party. I think if you look at it as a 'baptism of fire' that you reference here, he'll be fine.
Have a fabulous weekend...I look forward to a full report about this party.
Horribly smitten, FMC?! Isn't being smitten a good thing? I usually tend to enjoy it when I'm smitten... Anyrate, hope you have a lovely weekend, and good luck with the party!
He sound like a pretty good guy FMC.
Warn him, got to party, protect him, get drunk, got wild, let him protect you, get out before the authorities get there, try to stumble home together, start fooling around in public, get out befor the authorities get there.
Nice guys don't judge their ladies by the parties that go bad around them.
"I do like ths chap a lot actually, he is handsome, but not classically so, he is of a slightly different background to me, more middle-class, less bohemian, likes his parents and was never expelled from school or anything boorish like that.
Now, that said, we share an awful lot of the same views and have tremendous fun. He is very calm and together and really...masculine. You know? A full-on proper man, confident without being cocky, nice without being a walk over, firm without being overbearing."
Never mind all that. How close are his eyes? Are we talking Cyclops here or what? What about his shoes? Does he wear brown south of Perth, and are they polished? Does he take a good bucket now and then? These are the things that count.
Rapport, political views, eating habits, these can all be changed for the better later on.
Find out what his father does and report back for more advice.
Yeah, I hate the word partner too. What am I, a cowboy?
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