Flirt (Sitges IX)

This last night of the trip, I have determinedly done what I didn’t really do at all this time – go to the major gay bars and clubs. Bear Bar – I’d forgotten what it was like, and five minutes are enough (I escape, I’m afraid, especially after the one interesting French guy walks out the door just ahead of me). XXL – I’d been there two or three times before, and always found it a combination of fun and pretentious (I hear French a lot in here too, and that is often a mark of, well, prétentieusité, if you know what I mean). It’s more fun tonight, and I see a cluster of three obviously Spanish guys, and think – ooh, I want a Spanish boyfriend. Later one of them wrestles with me in the corner – the short, everyday-looking one, who is in a way the hottest of them all (very, very Spanish) – I’m actually pretty captivated….

And ending, again, in Trailer. Ah but tonight is a Tuesday night after the end of the season, and things are vastly quieter – and frankly more fun: there is time to look around. No shirts off, but I get to dwell on looking at some deep, dark Spanish eyes – what was the Laurie Anderson line, something like: “your eyes / it’s a day’s work / just looking at them”. A charming, sweet Spanish guy, sitting next to me, looks sleepy – I tell him so, laughing….

But it’s my last night, I need to get up in the morning – time to go, time to go (and that’s another, more obscure, Laurie Anderson quote – I bet you’ve never heard that piece). I follow the studliest out the door (and it turns out he’s French, too – il n’y a pas de question, ça, c’est un grand mec) and stumble quietly home. Flirting… and perhaps a sense of why it might be fun to be here, when it’s not The Season….