Yesterday my friend Colin collected me from the cottage and we went to lunch
We had a lovely long chat over celeriac soup which was drizzled over goats cheese and walnuts and put the world to rights over steak pie and poached haddock and poached egg
Now in my late fifties I’ve cultivated more male friends than I ever used to possess.
And more male gay friends which may be a surprising fact for some.
For years my only gay friend was Nigel, who is still my go to when I want an objective, occasionally waspish and totally honest opinion about something.
Now I am single, I have a few more.
Chaps that understand more of the nuances of the gay world later in life.
My straight male friends have increased in number too, a fact I love too.
Over the past decade sexuality seems to mean less in male friendships than it ever used to be
I applaud that fact so very much.
I’m planning a visit to Sheffield soon and one completely necessary friend catch up will be with Mike, a friend of thirty three years.
Now Mike is a true Yorkshireman
He’s a Straighter than straight, blokey, butch, football fan Yorkshireman .
and sounds like an extra from the film Kes
And in the 1990s I came out to him while we were drinking pints at the Dog And Partridge on Trippit Lane .
When I nervously told him I was gay , he took a measured sip of his bitter
smiled lugubriously and said carefully
“Does this mean that I have to go to gay bars occasionally ?”
“Only occasionally “ I told him
He nodded and replied quietly “ I can do that”
from Going Gently https://ift.tt/3g0uEXk
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