Old Compton Street

I had an interesting day yesterday. My New Year's resolution this year has been to give up unnatural acts. But I'd booked a date to hook up with a gay I'd met on Gay.com and we had lunch on Old Compton Street. (Not my sort of place, it has to be said, but he was a gay and he felt comfortable there.)

He was a Vietnamese Catholic, but educated in Wimbledon. We talked a bit about ourselves, although I eventually clammed up because we were in a public place. The odd thing is that he claimed that he had problems with White/Western men because he wasn't your "stereotypical" Asian. He claimed not to be camp. (I didn't say anything: I suppose these things are all relative.) He also said that he was unusual becuase he's a top, not a bottom (he's into "zuckering", apparently). The oddest thing though was that he claimed to be too logical for most English men.

Well, I tried a spot of logic on him when I told him that I was attracted to members of the same sex and I wasn't attracted to men. Needless to say, the penny didn't drop, and we parted amicably enough (after coffee on another part of the street) but with him still confused about me and convinced that I was deeply confused about myself. I tried to explain that I'd done six months of psychoanalysis (which in real terms is actually not that much) and that in truth I probably understood myself better than most of the gays in the cafe around us. But I'm not sure that he really believed me.

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