Location: Sydney
B moved over to Sydney, alone, 4 months ago after a painful breakup. The plan was to get snapped up immediately by a dashing, tanned, Australian man in a nice business suit. The plan of attack had to be tweaked somewhat after learning that Sydney is the 'gay capital of the southern hemisphere.' Though have met many lovely gay men friends, the dating pool has been extremely limited - and quite a blow to the ego.
The(limited)options so far in Sydney run thus:
Numbers 1, 2 and 3: All attractive, witty, well-dressed and generous. All gay. (To my untrained eye these seemed like options at first).
Number 4: Mitch aka Bus Boy. One month into my move over and feeling single and alone, I decided to dress up and meet a girlfriend for dinner. Taking time for once on makeup and hair, I missed my bus and ran to wait at the bus stop for the next one. Serendipity. Enter scene: tall, tanned, blonde and muscular Australian hottie. Instead of blushing and avoiding eye contact as usual, I used my womanly wiles: took out my compact mirror and applied lipstick in an alluring manner. It worked. Bus boy, clearly wearing a watch (bless) sat down next to me and asked me the time. From there began a wonderful conversation including such a range of subjects as NZ's Next Top Model, long-term relationships and jandals vs thongs. Our bus was caught in traffic for a whole hour. By this stage I was smitten with Bus Boy, who turned out to be 24, finishing his second degree, a painter and coach of children's basketball. I cheekily got his number, and also a kiss on the cheek as he sauntered off.
I sailed through my dinner on a high, sure that I would hear from him the NEXT DAY. This is where the fairytale ended. After several sporadic texts over the next 2 weeks I began to feel like a stalker - had I read the signals wrong? Did he have a delayed reaction of repulsion? Was he gay? In a relationship? Unfortunately my flatmate and I decided over 2 bottles of wine that the clear solution would be for her to call him "just to check if his phone is working." I still feel the burning shame as I write this.
After one phone call from Bus Boy saying he had been going through a hard time with his ex-girlfriend (alarm bells) and little else, I have given up on that most perfect option, with relief. Confusion still reigns. Did I get it all wrong? Is there any way I could have reeled him in? Or was it just meant to be a beautiful chance encounter, to prove to me that good single men are out there? The perfect Aussie man slipped through my fingers...
Next post: Will, the British traveller
B
