I was discussing with Magnum (http://magnumlivelarge.blog) over Twitter those Red Pill vignettes – brief, evocative episodes of Red Pill truth – which I had felt in the past with women but could not understand.
One of my dearest friends is gay – let’s call him the Pilot. He invited me, along with some friends, to an inner city gay pub called the Imperial to join him for a drink and a bit of partying.
He and I are close – and closely resemble a gay couple in appearance and affection. It’s strange – we just love each other as friends. There is no fear of affection, hugging, kissing on the cheek or anything that could be labelled “gay” – we are deeply bonded … even if he sucks cock and I eat pussy.
The Polish Girl
A opera singer friend of the Pilot’s turned up, along with some random camp dude and an ordinary looking Polish girl. She was also an opera singer and was in Australia on a holiday.
We took to talking and briefly discussed the usual about an overseas holiday – what have you seen? What do you think of the people? etc. The usual chitchat.
The Pilot and I are usually pretty energetic, bouncing jokes off each other and enjoying each other’s company. He and I got to the discussion about how the hotel had been used in the film Priscilla: Queen of the Desert and that there was a drag show later – basically a transvestite miming some power ballad while standing on the bar.
The Polish girl and I got back into conversation about men and she proudly told me that she had joined Tinder while in Australia – “I mean, I’m on holidays, right?”
I was inquisitive – Tinder had always been a cesspool for me – so I asked her about it as if I did not know anything about it.
“Yes, it has been very good”. She showed me an assortment of guys that had matched with her … and they proceeded to tell me that she had FUCKED SEVEN GUYS SINCE SHE HAD ARRIVED TWO WEEKS AGO … and that she intended to maximise her time here as she only had a few days left.
She was a dreadful-looking girl, beefy and bloated. No doubt she could sing coloratura in addition to sucking random cock. I might have thrown her a rose while on stage as Aida but that would be it.
She showed me some of the guys she had fucked – a mixed bag. The faces looked equally hungry.
We got on to the topic of my son and I showed her a few pics. She warmed – briefly – before asking about his mother and the arrangements between us.
“Well, we share the child equally. It’s the best arrangement at the moment”, I replied drily.
“Yes, but, how does it work legally in this country between the two of you? … I want to say, what is the legal agreement?” She looked at me puzzled.
“Well, you sit down and make an agreement”. I couldn’t understand the line of questioning.
“Yes, but you are gay … so how does it work?”
I went quiet and looked at her. “Umm, well, we have an agreement to share custody. I’m not gay by the way”.
She stiffened considerably and I saw the briefest flash in her eyes of ‘what have I done?’
“Yeah, I take care of him. It’s just me at the moment – single Dad. I don’t really want to introduce new women to him”.
I remember a coldness entering the room and her conversation dried up to next to nothing. She was a few paces away from our friends so could not bridge the gap. I threw in a bomb.
“So, have you lined up a guy for tonight? You haven’t got much time left”.
She was silent.