I love the whole Gay scene around the Capital. Although I don’t see a lot of gay men in my line of work, I wander through Soho, inhaling the vibe and the atmosphere with a smile.
And it was at G-A-Y that I met Lucas. Just for once, I had Saturday night free to sashay with my girlfriends among the queens of London. Tight tops, designer sunglasses and skinny jeans abound (and that was the men!). The crowd spilled out onto the pavement.
Soho is recognised more for its pubs, bars, nightspots and the fabulous West End than the seedy sex trade. We danced through the lanes to all the tunes carried along with the evening breeze, slightly intoxicated. And there in the shadows, I saw him.
Average height but better than average build, he was standing, looking bored with a cigarette burning at his fingertips. As we passed him, he took a drag from it, and something in me tingled. I persuaded the girls to stop ‘for a drink’, which worked because nobody spotted him but me. And quite a good job, too as I was, with many of my fellow delicious 24-hour escorts. What he was doing at one of the campest gay haunts in Soho, I do not know, but my Gaydar didn’t start beeping, so I thought I was OK. I looked at him over my shoulder as we stood in the queue, and he winked at me.
“What’s your name?” I mouthed. He responded with Lucas. I like to get straight to the point; maybe it’s my profession. There is no point skipping around the obvious for hours. I fancied him; I let him know it.
I liked the fact we were an ordinary boy and girl meeting by chance on a Saturday night. I also liked I hadn’t set this date up in advance and wanted to be me for a little while. Lucas had no expectations of me, and it was worth a kiss in a dark corner if nothing else!
