Being Gay

 

Sometimes it’s nice to have a gay old day.

I got to Liverpool early and bought the outstanding remaining pieces of my dinner service from John Lewis. I couldn’t find the cutlery section , as it had been moved. I told the very camp salesman I was in a hurry and he let the charge to the right shelves with a wave of the arm and a merry “ Tallyho”

I met my friend Colin at The Italian Club just on time and we drooled like schoolboys over the army of bearcub waiters on duty, with their heavily dyed beards and big hairy arms .

When Colin payed the bill, one such waiter gave his hand a cheeky caress which made my friend blush Pinkly and made me laugh like a drain.

We went to the Philharmonic Hall to watch the Liverpool Symphony Orchestra play Beethoven Leonore Overture, Sibelius’ violin Concerto with sololist Maria Dueñas and Prokofiev’s Symphony No 5 .

The music was , as usual top notch , but we both were watching conductor ( the floppy haired Venezuelan Domingo Hindoyan) like predatory hawks