My first time on the scene - part 2

So there I was in the Garden of Gayness known as Queens Court. There was no such thing as the smoking ban at that time and it was the first thing I noticed. The first thought that entered my mind was how disgusting my clothes would smell. I had never seen so many people smoking in one place before and it appeared that one had to be a heavy smoker to be gay!
The second thing I noticed was that there were a fair few lesbians here too. Butch, pretty, fat, thin and some just plain ugly.
I made my way to the bar to order a vodka and coke, trying very hard to convince everyone I passed that it wasn't my first time here. The lack of heads turning as I did, made me think I had achieved this.
After paying for my drink, I decided to explore my new and exciting surroundings. This took all of a minute as the downstairs part of Queens Court is rather small and it was full of gay folk.
I then realised that I didn't really know what to do next. Should I try and talk to someone and if I did, how on earth do I start the conversation?
This was too much for me, so I decided the best thing to do was find somewhere to sit. Thankfully, there were plenty of vacant seats and I quickly made my way to one and then did what seemed perfectly natural to me..I pretended to read a text message on my phone. The idea here was that if anyone was watching me, they would see me doing this which would suggest  that I was waiting for someone and that the message I was reading was he, she or them saying they were on their way. The only downside to this was that eventually, it would become obvious I had been stood up.
So there I was, sipping my vodka and coke, pretending to read the odd text message and watching guys walk past and generally crapping myself. Despite this feeling of sheer terror I was so proud of myself that I had done it. I had actually come to a gay bar without the aid of a friend or several drinks beforehand.
After and hour and a second vodka and coke, the nerves really started to kick in. Not a single guy had come up to me. There had been plenty walk past me, some extremely pleasing to the eye too, but not a single look from any of them.
I started to over think things. Why wasn't anyone trying to talk to me. Was I too fat, too thin,  too small, too shy or maybe I was  ugly to them? It was then that I started to panic inside.
 This was the biggest night of my life and I wanted some kind of attention to show that I had made the right decision to come here..a chat, a kiss, a glance or even a smile from another guy would have made it worth the while.
Then it happened...He walked past me. I thought I recognised him as he made his way to the toilet but wasn't sure. I kept an eye out for him coming back. A few minutes later and he did and this time he saw me.
Who was this beacon of light, this man who would be my saviour?
It was Rikii!

Tune in next week for the 3rd and final instalment of this confession.

Until then, I bid thee farewell.

My first time on the scene - part 1

Hi folks. Apologies for the lack of a blog last week. Had a few issues to sort out.
This week I thought I'd tell you all about my very first time on the gay scene and just who was responsible for it.

My Dad and his cousin Keith were both celebrating their 60th birthday and a big party had been organised with family and friends attending.
It was being held in a part of Leeds that I had never been to and I didn't really have the money for a taxi, so the plan was that dad would pick me up in his car at 7pm and we'd drive to the venue.
I have to admit I was really looking forward to it as I get on well with Keith and his family. There was also the added bonus that my sister, brother and, of course Dad, would be there.
The time was 7pm and no sign of him. Ten minutes later and still no sign. Maybe the traffic was bad? At 7.30 I tried calling him on is mobile but there was no answer. Then I tried calling my sister. No answer there either. Several unanswered text messages and phone calls later and still Dad was a no show. By this time it was nearly 8pm and I was beginning to get worried. Then I remembered my invite. it had the name of the club where the party was taking place. A quick look in Yellow pages and I was calling the club. Thankfully someone answered. I asked if a 60th birthday party was being held there. It was and they confirmed it was for Dad and Keith.
The call was being taken upstairs in the club so I asked if they could take down my number and ask Keith to call me urgently.
A few minutes later he did. I apologised for not being there but that I was still waiting for Dad to pick me up. To my surprise, he was already there. I asked Keith to put him on the phone. Seconds later I was talking to him and asking him why he hadn't picked me up. He said he thought someone else was going to do it.
"It was all arranged that you were doing it" I said to him. I also went on to say how I thought something terrible had happened. He apologised to me and then again as he told me he couldn't pick me up now, as he had had a couple of drinks.
I was so angry and very very upset. We said our goodbyes and as I hung up, I just stood there in disbelief not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
The one thing I did know was that I was dressed to go out and there was no way I was staying in. I caught the bus into town and just walked, not really looking where I was heading.
After a few a few minutes I stopped and looked at my surroundings and there it was, probably the most famous of gay bars in Leeds. I was stood outside Queens Court.
For some time, I had been wrestling with the thought of visiting this hive of gay activity but somehow managed to always put it off. Maybe this was some kind of omen and that Dad not picking me up was someones way of saying I should go to Queens Court instead.
Should I enter or should I turn away? The urge was just too great. I had to go in and it had to be that night.
My stomach started to churn and my legs turned to jelly but never the less, I started to walk up to the entrance. Each step felt like I was carrying heavy weights around my ankles. Just a few more steps and I would be there. The thought entered my head that, even now, I could still turn and walk away. Within seconds of dismissing that thought, I was in.

Tune in next week to see what happened next.

Until then, I bid thee farewell.