We wrap up our lavender look back at Maurice von Ritz’ column with a little something for the not so bent among us. Hope you enjoyed the columns this week, Marys. From issue #71, April 2009.
“I just don’t know where I stand with him: is he into me or is he not into me?” said Sara, as we cracked open the next bottle of cheap red wine. I nodded sympathetically, coming out with the standard you’re-worth-10-of-him-he-just-doesn’t-appreciate-you lines. Conversations like this tend to be quite relaxing as generally nothing more than the standard responses are required: he just needs time; he obviously has commitment issues; he probably lost his mobile phone and has been temporarily cut off from all electronic communication. Never ever “he clearly doesn’t fancy you”. But my clichés ran out of steam as Sara added “and when I talked to this girl in New York who I’ve been having this affair with, she said I shouldn’t give up on it as the sex is so good”. Which girl in New York? And where did this affair come from? And why was she recommending that Sara stay with the guy if they were having an affair? Sara has the most complicated love life I’ve ever come across, and when she tells me about her current situations (there are always more than one), I just end up feeling hopelessly provincial.
At the moment she spends every night in bed with George, but they don’t have sex, except sometimes they do. There is also the mysterious girl from New York who has just appeared out of nowhere, with no explanation given as to how this affair is being maintained. Online presumably, but as someone who doesn’t even understand how Facebook works, I’ve given up trying to get my head round that one. Into the mix is also an on-off Czech guy in England, who I know nothing about except for detailed descriptions of his penis. Huge apparently. Sara talks to it on the phone. Again the logistics of this relationship are beyond me. And that’s not counting the occasional sexual encounters which sometimes appear, seemingly just wandering down the street or popping down to the shop for a pint of milk. A few weeks ago she stood up our friend Bill in Kuchi, who realized after an hour that he would be eating lunch alone. He was livid until she explained the next day that on the way to the restaurant she got involved in a threesome which just seemed too promising to turn down. Bill, not entirely unfamiliar with seedy encounters himself, felt this to be an entirely justifiable excuse. I was left wondering how you end up getting involved in a threesome while on your way to lunch. “Oh, there was this guy and his girlfriend who I met, and well, one thing led to another … You know how it is.” I don’t. But this made sense to Bill, so obviously it’s just something that I don’t get.
There was a time when gays were the ones pushing sexual boundaries, and when even just being homosexual meant doing something quite radical. Now all the gays I know are getting married, pursuing decent careers and starting to look a bit like Wowereit. It’s my straight friends who are doing sexually imaginative things – not that half the things they do are actually that straight anyway.