Bad Dates, Good Dates.

I'm not saying I'm perfect;

In fact I'm far from it;

I'm just saying I'm worth it.

Unknown

I've now been on the online dating scene for about a month. I don't want to blow my own trumpet too much, but I've had much more attention on my chosen site than I thought I would. Perhaps its that photo which has just the right amount of light (aka, very little) to make me look even vaguely passable. Perhaps its the practice I've had from writing this that has meant I can use overly flowery language and begin to sell myself a little bit. Or maybe, its just that there are a lot of people on this site that, like me, are just interested to meet as many people as they can. Whatever it is, I've certainly enjoyed chatting to a good few people. And receiving the odd 'Wink' is always exciting!

And, luckily, after wading through all the complete non-starters (my profile says max 30 guys, 72 is a little out of my age range!!) I've even managed to have some really great conversations that have developed into dates. Two dates with two guys that were, entirely, polar opposites. They both started well, a bit of banter developed over messaging; numbers were exchanged and texting ensued; dates and times for a meet-up were arranged. I was dressed up, nervous, excited equally by both of them. But, they couldn't have been different. I've changed names so as to save any embarrassment in case either decides to read this...

First there was James. James seemed really sweet, a bit of a geek like me, a gentleman. We exchanged a good few messages until I decided the time was right to set up a date and exchange numbers. He leapt at the chance. Over the coming week we sent each other a lot of texts, even briefly speaking on the phone. He seemed nice, possibly a little too nice. And keen. Boy was he keen. Probably a little too keen, but I was keen too so I let him off. As the day for our first date approached he let me know what he wanted to do; I was hoping for something interesting. No. A drink and dinner was all he could muster. I should have let him down then and there; I know its the standard idea but really - if you can't think of something better, its a worrying sign. But I decided to go for it, even if it wasn't good, at least I had some practice. I arrived at our meeting point, nervous, what if I didn't recognise him from his photo? But then I saw him and, my heart sank. I knew, immediately, I just wasn't attracted to him. I could have moved past this, but a forced and overly formal handshake later (really, we're both gay, a hug isn't inappropriate!!) and I just knew I wasn't on to a winner. Over a couple of drinks and dinner the conversation flowed easily, but it wasn't scintillating. He talked about work, I talked about work. He didn't ask any interesting questions, I tried but failed to get a response. I couldn't get away quicker. A terrible hug and quick peck on the cheek at the station and that was it; I knew I had to let him down. He text me to say he had a great time, I sent him that horrible 'you're just not for me' text. I didn't even get a reply. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't horrible, he was a nice enough guy. But, god, not for me. Not for me at all.

I was disappointed. My first foray was a failure. Deflated and dejected I went back to the drawing board and started trying to find someone new to chat to. And then I stumbled across Adrian. He'd looked at my profile before, but I hadn't really registered him, I wish I had. His profile ad amused me, this was clearly someone who was laid back and just wanted to have fun. Interested, I sent him a wink, not expecting much. He replied the next day with a message. One line, 'How can you not like bananas you weirdo?' (anyone who knows me well enough will know what a trauma that devil fruit is to me) I laughed so much when I read it. I was sold. Not one other person had read my profile well enough to realise that what I really wanted was to be made to laugh, be put in my place and face sarcasm. I replied with something equally witty, and we were off. We exchanged numbers within a day, set up a date for two days time. This was exciting. I took the reigns, decided on something much more interesting - a picnic in a park (the sun's finally been shining in London so I wanted to make the most of it). He was pretty keen. So we decided to meet up and go buy food together first. I was nervous, really nervous, but so excited. And then I saw him, and I just thought - thank god, I'm actually attracted to this one!! The date couldn't have gone better - we laughed, we cut each other down, we shared interesting stories. He'd even brought me a little handmade gift. I did not want to leave. As it got cooler, we decided to move somewhere for a drink. We sat down, and I still couldn't leave. He made me laugh, he insulted me, he let me insult him. We bonded over a love of films, books, music. When I finally had to go I knew that this had been a good one. I was certain I wanted to see him again. I went home with a big grin on my face. Online dating had, hopefully, worked in at least introducing me to someone I might like to get to know better.

So folks, the moral of this story? If you want to do online dating - make sure you read a person's profile properly. Don't just send the 'Hi, How are you?' message. Send something personal, interesting, fun. You never know what you might end up with. And, for gods sake, be inventive with your date suggestions!!

Bugger the Bankers

"Bugger the Bankers and Politicians,

Bugger the Bureaucrats Too."

Suzy Davis - Bugger the Bankers from Epidemic

This week I protested. Without marching, without chanting, without carrying placards, without setting up camp; myself and a few good friends registered out anger in the best way possible - through song. The wonderful people at the City of London festival (click here) positioned pianos for all to use; to play for free, for sing around, to bring the power of music to the stuffy, finance obsessed world of the city. And we; a group of singers united by a musical, decided to take advantage of this opportunity and sing a protest song (among others) entitled 'Bugger the Bankers' - I think you get its message!!

Now, I'm not going to pretend to you that I went along solely to protest. It was a lovely opportunity to see friends, to sing in public, to entertain people and to say farewell to a good friend. But as we sang ourselves hoarse through our fourth rendition of Bugger the Bankers, outside of St Paul's cathedral, the power of this song to grip audiences and make an impression really came to the fore. Apart from a few grumpy men in suits (Bankers or politicians probably) passers-by stopped, smiled, and listened. And enjoyed. And applauded. This spurred us on; louder we sang, more obnoxiously, more forcefully. Because it wasn't just about singing and enjoying ourselves any more - we had a point; and we wanted everyone to hear.

I'm a pragmatic socialist. I understand, if not the need for, the benefits of wealth creation, free market economics and big business. I understand that some people are going to be paid more than others; and that in order for the economy to run we need people at the bottom doing menial jobs. What I will never understand, however, is the disgusting behaviour of those who are at the top. Power and money corrupt. They always have and they always will. If the past couple of weeks, and the scandal of rate fixing by Barclays (and probably most other banks) says anything about our financial system; its that far from needing less regulation, it needs more. More control from the people who rely on its services to get by. To survive. The Conservative Party doesn't understand this, or at least aren't willing to give it an airing. Without the Liberal Democrats as a slight (if weak and sometimes insignificant) check on them, I don't believe we'd even be talking about ring-fencing, or judicial reviews, or financial regulation. The modern Labour party aren't much better. When companies whose sole purpose it is to make money have a closer ear to MPs than organisations that help real people, have real social functions, then there is something brutally wrong with the society we live in. 

Condemnation of this is hijacked by the media, by politicians trying to show they are 'in-step'. We need to stand up and take it for ourselves. Show that we feel, we believe, we are united in anger. We've had Occupy (hijacked by hippies), pension protests (hijacked by unions) and tuition fee riots (hijacked by wealthy students wanting to have a go at police). We need something for real people to unite around and show our discontent. 'Bugger the Bankers' could just be that. Its light-hearted, its funny, but its also got a serious point. Christmas Number One 2012? I think so.

As we sat in a pub, congratulating ourselves on the fun we had and the point we made, someone mentioned that there was a piano outside of the Bank of England. We couldn't turn this opportunity down. And so we sang, we stuck two fingers up, we danced. We protested this vile state of affairs. You should too.

Yes. Yes I Am Proud.

And so, after the last slightly dubious post about Pride (read it here), I took myself along. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, what with the downgrading of the whole affair at very short notice due to a lack of funds/lack of support from The Mayor (whoever you choose to believe...). But I went, armed with wonderfully strong cans of gin and tonic, my gayest of t-shirts and a few choice friends, and prepared myself to be angry, frustrated, bored, terrified, excited, proud.

Well. How wrong I was last week. I love Pride. I spent six hours watching and cheering on endless gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people (and even a whole host of straight people and kids) walking the streets, dancing, snogging, holding hands, marching, chanting and, above all, loving. On one corner I saw old lesbian couples holding hands, basking in each others company; on the other newly out boys who'd managed to persuade incredibly wonderful and tolerant mothers along with them. I chatted to kids, no older than fourteen, from an LGBT youth group. I made friends with two girls from Slovakia who were 'just friends', who stared longingly at each other more and more as the drink flowed. This was a day where labels meant nothing and the entire rainbow of society (not just LGBT society, but almost the whole of society) came out in order to celebrate difference and that most wonderful, heartbreaking and human of emotions; Love. 

Because, lets face it; no matter how much society wants to only talk about the sexual practices of being gay, there's far more too it than that. Yesterday showed me that being LGBT is about love and tolerance, communities coming together as one to celebrate the opportunity to love who we want to without fear of being persecuted, laughed at or harassed. I've often found this unity lacking, with the bitchy queens of Soho judging anyone that doesn't fit their stereotype. But this, this was so different, so wonderful. Here we were, thousands of people stood in Trafalgar Square, getting soaked, pissed and excitable, listening to terrible musical performances; all because we were united in a common cause to love who we wanted, and to give everyone around the world the opportunity to do the same.

And so I perched there. Sat on the edge of one of the fountains, staring up at a big screen, beer in hand and with far too many stickers on my t-shirt I looked across the area and saw the multitudes of people and I felt it. Pride. Absolute, total Pride in myself, in this community, in these people. Its something I've never truly and strongly felt before; but here it was - taking over my body, my heart and my head. And, as Simon Hughes came on stage to tell us how the Liberal Democrats work tirelessly for our rights to fair and equal marriage, a few tears came to my eyes. Not because I fear the Lib Dems will let us down (they won't, I'm sure of it) but because, for one of the few times in my life, I felt like I had been found, accepted and fully tolerated. That little voice that always had its doubts was finally silenced.

Here I am. A proud, young, happy gay man. Thank you World Pride 2012. You may have been smaller than you wanted, but for me, you were the biggest and best you could be.

Am I Proud?

This Saturday, World Pride comes to London, and for the first time since coming out at the age of 15 I am going to go along. I think its about time that I experience the multitudes of rainbow flags, drags acts and other big gay delights that await me in Trafalgar Square. As long as the rain that we've been experiencing for far too long now holds off, it should be a good day.

But, why haven't I been before? Its not like I've hidden my sexuality or even shied away from it - everyone knows I'm gay and I wouldn't have it any other way. I just always had a problem with the term 'Pride', and the day itself. I found it hard to understand why I needed to extol my pride in something that I never chose, can't change, and that I don't let rule my life. I am so much more than gay, but sometimes I felt that celebrating pride would shove me into a tiny box where the only thing that mattered or that people saw was that I was gay. I came out in order to be more of myself, not so I could be labelled and boxed as a one-dimensional package.

I also felt that, at times, the militant campaigns run by certain parts of the gay rights movement harmed the cause; rather than making homosexuality seem normal and included, it set us apart and, whether deliberately or not, clearly made us different. I'm not advocating hiding, and there are things that do need to be shouted about, but forcing our sexuality down peoples' throats (sometimes literally!) can't have been good for inclusion. When a gay man can tell a girl to get out of the queue for a gay bar because she's straight, discrimination seems to have turned the other way.

However, with the equal marriage debate raging (and some pretty vitriolic stuff coming out of certain corners of society) I've started to feel the need to get more involved. I'm never going to be comfortable being boxed solely as a gay man, but I want to experience and live this part of me properly. I genuinely believe that the key to tolerance and acceptance is to live together properly, not to separate ourselves into ghettos where only one way of life is tolerated. But until there is total equality (we are so nearly there), I can fully understand why Pride is necessary to many. And anyway, who wouldn't want to go and watch a parade full of half-naked hunks and beautiful women?!