Back in Chamonix, a few weeks ago, I might well have committed a slight indiscretion. At the time, I somehow omitted to mention the details of the ski group's visit to Le Tof, Chamonix's only gay bar. It's almost not worth mentioning now, but for the fact that unbeknown to me, a series of strange related international coincidences occurred last weekend.
That particular evening was the last night of the trip and the group that went out comprised of half gays and half not. The first place we stopped at was a sports bar where the girls in the group made themselves at home. However, around midnight, a strange frisson ran through the air and seemingly as one, the gays suddenly realised it was the witching hour. Time to go... The others showed reticence to depart, so in classic fashion, we cut and ran.
The place was your basic generic local gay bar. They had probably read the Spartacus manual to making your bar look and sound like every other one listed in the book. However, that's not to do it down: the evening was quite a success in that there were loads of other people there, and it wasn't the 'mixed' crowd we had been warned of.
Shortly after we arrived, a group of South Africans walked through the door. One of these new arrivals was HM; tall, blonde, incredibly attractive and clearly spent a lot of time in his local gymnasium. As one, our posse became slack-jawed. And yet it needs to be recorded that it was I who ended up first among equals, kissing this guy. No small triumph, this. However, alas it was not destined to be a holiday romance: his friends decided to leave and he went with them. I assumed I would never encounter him again.
I may have been wrong.
... because at the weekend in Johannesburg, SM, currently there on family business, bumped into HM again. Recounting tales of the skiing holiday to the friends he was with, HM told the story of our encounter and apparently he recalled the incident fondly.
Later, SM put us in touch and it turns out he would just love to come to London, perhaps to stay. And I couldn't help thinking: how could he possibly repay me...?
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