Bank Holiday

The first weekend in May is always a holiday in the UK. I am not sure why, possibly heralding the start of Summer or something Pagan. However amongst my gay friends it seems to be an excuse to take as many drugs as they can get their hands on. Even the more abstemious of our little gang had tales to tell of over indulgence. It doesn’t usually bother me as I am normally tucked up in bed by the time they all get cracking (pun intended!) and we regroup when they have come down or climbed out of their K Holes. However this Sunday I thought the plan was to all meet up in the evening and go out en masse, something we haven’t done properly in ages. We all had Monday off and so we could go to the Sunday Night shindigs that are normally off limits.

I put on my going out gear and walked round to the pub. The Scot and Grumpy had been there for an hour already, but there was no sign of the rest. It being a Bank Holiday The Scot and Grumpy discussed their drug consumption, fairly low key coke and Viagra combinations. They both discussed the merits of there respective shags, a power top and a bloke with a town house and very large nipples. Grumpy’s was the one with enhanced nipples. Intrigued he asked how the bloke got them so big, before he had time to pop another pill the guy had Grumpy’s shirt off and was attaching suction cups to his chest. How very modern!

The Scot called the others but there was no reply. I called them and faired no better. It must have been a heavy night. We ate some Thai food in the pub. We had another drink. The others texted to say they would be out later, they were waiting for a pizza to be delivered. After the Thai food we walked up the road to the Kazbar. Grumpy was telling me how upset and shaken he had been witnessing a fight outside the Kazbar on Friday night. He had already told me once, but he seemed really upset by it so I let him tell me again. The crowd at The Kazbar was unattractive and had spilled onto the pavement outside. It looked like the Yumbo Centre in Gran Canaria. Another drink. Still no sign of the others. I asked Grumpy and Scot if the would come to Horsemeat Disco with me but neither wanted to go, they wanted to stay in the Kazbar. I went out side and called White John. He sounded so groggy I must have woken him up. I asked if he was coming out and he told me that Flattie had gone to bed and if I had a plan. I told him the plan had been meet in the Railway and go to Horsemeat Disco but that clearly was not going to happen, then I hung up.

I went back inside and told the others I was staying for one more drink. Grumpy said, “ Are you feeling let down?” and I told him that yes I was. He then started going on about how I shouldn’t rely on my friends, I should become more self sufficient. He then changed tack and said they hadn’t really let me down and that I should make the most of the night and go off and explore this great world by myself. I wanted to punch him. I realised I should not have picked last week to stop taking St Johns Wort. I looked around the Kazbar , it did not look wonderful. I finished my pint and walked home. As I walked through the front door my phone beeped. It was Flattie apologising for falling asleep. He hoped I had fun. I texted him back to say that no, I had not had fun, and then he started getting irate about not having actually made a plan, it was just a tentative arrangement, nothing definite. I sent back a “Whatever!” which I knew would really wind him up and went to bed.

I have decided that I will try and go away for the next Bank Holiday, or possibly just drop in and see all the boys at The Betty Ford Clinic.