So Saturday was the annual trip to the Feathers for bus drivers. It was actually okay, in that I left early to prevent boredom to fully set in. Plus having Nat there always helps. It was the same routine as always; meet up at the hop pole, partake in some really shitty karaoke, then head to the feathers for all fucking night, and at some point I get asked if I'm gay.
On this occasion it was someone who I have actually decided to remove the name of. It's actually starting to get really boring now. Clearly, as I frequently make homoerotic comments and get quite touchy feely with my friends that makes me gay. Because everyone knows that you openly pursue whatever gender of lover takes your fancy by constantly touching their arse and suggesting you perform oral sex on them for a packet of crisps.
Not only is that quite pathetic, it doesn't matter what I say, the enquirer always hears "yes, I'm gay". No matter how I answered her metaphorical questions, all this person could say was "you can tell me, you know that" or "I'll still love you anyway".
Another notch to the "people I have lost a little bit of respect for" belt.
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