Mistakes and Ladders: The Story Behind Attitude's WLTM by Pip McCormac

Author:Pip McCormac [McCormac, Pip]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Gay & Lesbian
Published: 2011-08-10T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

So I have this friend who is a fashion editor – let’s call him Rob. He’s ten years older than me, and really hot. Obviously, I’ve always fancied the designer pants off him, but nothing has ever happened between us. Probably because on the day I met him, when I turned up for work experience five years ago, I was wearing Mel Blatt-style combat trousers, a tight black shirt, a wristband, and two belts. Yes, two belts. No self-respecting fashion editor could ever get over that.

Anyway, having worshipped him from afar I’ve always been astounded at how unlucky he is in love. He’s more handsome than me, more charismatic than me, more successful than me...if he can’t do it, what hope is there for the rest of us? Perhaps it’s because he’s even more desperate to settle down than me that scares men off. He’s 40 and single after all, and whilst we may not have our body clocks ticking away in quite the same style as single women, most gays hear the ringing of The Conran Shop’s tills instead, desperate to find someone with whom to furnish a flat full of some modern urban accessories.

Three weeks ago Rob told me he’d met the perfect man for me, and could he set me up? Obviously, I only needed one millisecond of thought before saying yes and pressing him for the details. Who was this guy, what did he do, where did they meet?

“Oh, I went on a couple of dates with him and it didn’t work out. But I think he’d probably do for you,” he said blithely, as if this guy was just another fashion sample he’d been given, didn’t want, and was passing on to me. Which to be fair, for all the reasons stated above, if this guy wasn’t good enough for Rob, maybe he might be OK for me, as I’m far lower down the gay food chain than he is. Besides, if this guy had even managed to go on a date with Rob in the first place, he couldn’t be all bad. My friend may be desperate, but he still likes his boys to be pretty.

So, after getting Simon’s email address we arranged to meet for drinks one night that week on the roof terrace of the Trafalgar Hotel. It was one of those autumnally chilly evenings but with the most beautiful sunset, and over a couple of bottles of wine we got along amazingly. Simon was cute, funny, charming, and my age. “It probably didn’t work out with him and Rob due to the difference in years,” I reasoned to myself, draining yet another glass of Pinot Grigio and totally forgetting it was a school night, which I always think is the sign of a good date. If I’m willing to turn up to work hungover as hell that means I really must like the guy.

The sunset had long disappeared, but as the last drop of wine from the third bottle went

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