Part 1 was written a little while ago and I thought I could make it more interesting with an anecdotal update.
Shall we say I was on one side of the street and the new gay employee who attracts the adoration of straight women was on the other side of the street in town. There was excessive tram gonging at Bourke Street and I turned around to see why. Nothing to do with the tram gonging but coming up the street was a tall and well built man on a skateboard. He was quite muscular, of olive complexion and tanned too, and only wearing trainers on his feet and a pair of flatteringly fitting pink shorts. Not too tight though. He wouldn't want anyone to think he is gay. He passed right by me.
I then saw my gay workmate on the other side of street. He neck nearly snapped in two as his head swivelled with much acceleration to see the skateboarder. I've seen the same guy on the skateboard again in town, the second time in more subdued maroon shorts. He is no spring chicken, perhaps 30, but one sexy dude.
Now I haven't really ever spoken to this new gay guy at work. I so much wanted to say to him when I next saw him, darls, I saw your neck snap when you saw that hot skateboarder man in Swanston Street. Did you wet yourself?
In the past, like ten years ago plus, I said to the hot fair straight Greek bloke at work, I've always had fantasies about you Nick but with Peter A (a younger cute straight Italian heritage lad), but I could never work out who I wanted to see on top. Nick went bright red in embarrassment and laughed. I had a workmate called Helena with who I had great fun with in the 90s. I've just remembered Our Friend in Japan met her once. Sorry about that V. I don't really think she was a proper dyke. Her girlfriend at the time was very nice though, and looked after her after she dropped a plugged in toaster into the bath. We ran into her girlfriend once at the gay bar, The Peel, and without Helena there, we really clicked with her, to the point where we never saw or heard from her again. Helena left my workplace and went on to be a receptionist in a brothel. Aren't they all? More amazingly, for one year she lived next door to Mother and Step Father and had a child and I never knew until after she had moved. Step Father grew quite fond of her for a chat.
Back to Nick. For a bit, he and Helena were an item. Helena told me all about what she and Nick got up to, including with another female. My memories are hazy, but there was a male St Kilda Road, St Kilda tattooist mixed up in this too. I am sure she did so to excite me, that is give the details in graphic description, and it worked. Poor Nick. He knows I know a good bit about him but not really how much. My second last memory of Helena is being on a tram and her hair extensions were falling out. We pulled them out even more. A minor drug may have been involved. I spoke to her on the phone a few years later and the essence was that we were both older and such irresponsible fun times had passed. I should have realised at the time by her family name, but I did work it out that she was Jewish by her naming her son Jacob. She was of Eastern European heritage. I also remember saying to Nick in a bad Greek Mother accent, oh Nicholas, when are you going to get married and make babies? While he was a party animal, he did marry in his late 30s and father a couple of children and is seemingly happily married. Although he did say to me when he is on holidays, he goes back to his old ways. Tinder is it Nick? You have a snort? Do a line? He pretty well confirmed that.
I am loathe to use the phrase politically correct, but that is what my workplace is now like. So I decided I would not say anything to my newish gay workmate about his head snapping at the hot skater. You've heard or experienced the invisibility of women after 40, or is that 50? As a much older gay man, I am rather invisible to him anyway.