Wednesday, May 26, 2004
Fears Of A Clone
This week, I chose to buy my very first Abba CD, rather than getting some obscure but ultimately rewarding World Music recording which I'd really have to work hard at to appreciate; and, in a particularly grumpy and snooty mood, I scowled at the middle-aged stranger who bought me a drink, while conveniently forgetting that I am also a middle-aged Stranger, who never buys drinks unless we've been introduced first.
In addition, I spent an entire evening in a chrome-plated bar, and not a pub, quoting extensively from Will and Grace rather than Wilhelm Meister, and declined the pints of Stella in favour of bottles of Smirnoff Ice; while there, I also read the free fag-mags Boyz and QX from cover to cover, but didn't even pick up a copy of the Pink Paper, because, well, it's politics, isn't it, and what’s that got to do with us? I was also heard using the words "puh-leeaze", "like totally" and "awesome" in the same sentence.
And finally, I was seized by what can only be described as the girly giggles when I learnt that skin-care people Biotherm have finally opened a concession in the UK; gave one female friend fashion hints, and another advice on a ménage à trois; and hissed at Gail while cheering Todd on Corrie.
So much for my careful presentation of an off-line persona of a deeply caring, slightly off-the-wall but seriously cultured and non-stereotypical gay man. Looks like I've morphed into a mainstream Mary, while nobody was looking, just like everybody else.
Now. Will someone please slap some good taste and common sense into me, before I get another round of those alcopops in?