About five years ago, three new gay guys started at my work. One was a petite little cutie but also a stuck up pretentious twat. He has gone on to other areas. Another was extremely nice looking, and set up another gay workmate to fail and received a nice bit of compensation from the company. The third is still at my workplace and has become a friend, with whom we have socialised a couple of times and I am in regular contact with.
Over the past six months, four new gay guys have come to my work. Their age range is 30 to 50. The last of them is a tall, slim, dark and a little effem, perhaps a little ethereal. One transferred from another area in my employment and he has all the straight women hanging off his every word. I can see why. He pays them a lot of attention. Three of the four carry facial hair, one black, one red, one blondish red. One with Italian heritage is quite hot looking but oh, his voice is so loud and sounds like a cross cut saw in action.
They are all so different but they one thing in common aside from being gay and seemingly all nice people, they can talk, that is talk the leg off an iron pot. And they ask me about myself. The cynical me thinks they are just being nice. But I dunno, they seem so sincere, like they are genuinely interested.
Self protective old gay men like me are history. I concede, give it over to the younger out there gay men and women, and care for those who are maybe gay, but not so out there, and especially older gay men who are a little bewildered by modern gay life.
This is a little unfinished but a child has control of my desktop.