Philadelphia, November 6th, 2012Election Night. Following my tradition of Election Night Hookups, I went out to Woody's, an enormous twink bar with nonstop cruising. There was a surprisingly large crowd, some watching the returns on a big-screen tv, but most ignoring them, believing that politics was a game for homophobic heterosexuals, not for us.
At 51, I was one of the older guys there, but I'm a twink magnet, so I was getting cruised by a number of Cute Young Things.
I was NOT being cruised by Oscar the Grouch, a short, very muscular guy, probably my age or a little older, with a round face, a stern military haircut, and a constant scowl.
Oscar was not being cruised by anyone, in spite of his physique. Maybe his age and scowl were turn-offs. He stood by himself at a little counter, beer bottle at his side, grimacing at everyone.
I never do well with older guys, but I thought, why not give him a try?
I sidled up and introduced myself. The first thing he said was: "Aren't twinks the worst?"
"Um...beg pardon?"
"Frilly little wankers, so soft and sassy, wouldn't know what to do with a real man if he bit them on the arse."
Well, this was a twink bar....what did he expect? "I'm from West Hollywood...." I began.
Before I could finish my sentence, he continued, "Why is America full of stooks?"
"Idjits. You get into a big row over gay marriage, when civil unions do the same job. What's the difference?"
Um...
"And your tv is bollocks! The other night I was watching Parks and Recreation. 'Oh, you have to watch,' me friend said. It's cor deadly, right?' Infantile drivel, more like."
Ok, he was annoyingly downbeat, but I was entranced by the accent, which I finally placed as Irish.
The full story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.