Roger and I spent a
On Saturday afternoon I had the pleasure of meeting Chig (see pictures below). We had talked on the phone at length before we met just to confirm where and when etc. - there was a little flirting on that call but not too much. Chig even offered me his gaydar profile so I could see what he looked like - a fact which said less about Chig's forwardness than it did about how at easy he must have felt after our brief conversation. The allotted time was 1:30pm.
We eventually met 30 minutes later due to heavy traffic in The Green Room opposite the Hippodrome which is one of Chig's favourite haunts. We devoured some beer, some food (him veggie, me stuffed potato skins) and both finished off with hot chocolate with double-cream and flakes (diet be damned!). We talked about work, where we lived, who we knew and who we didn't. We discovered friends in common via Chig's work (which was perhaps unremarkable considering what he does). We touched on football and boys and boy-bands and music and blogging and bloggers and Korbyn and more music and Soft Cell and A1 and Birmingham and The 'Gale and The Green House and The Green Room and everything. I asked questions I shouldn't ("So who *do* you have sex with?") and forgot to ask ones I should have ("So how do you know Mike, then?"). We chatted and chatted and chatted and chatted. I now know where Chig's name comes from, where he lives, what he does do and what it doesn't. I know how much he drinks, why he gets to meet so many famous people and what he listens to at work. All very personal things I'm sure you'll agree.
Full set of pictures here.
So three hours later after I'd sucked out everything from him we went milling around Birmingham Town Centre - first a record shop (did Chig wait especially for my arrival before pointed buying Soft Cell's Cruelty Without Beauty?) then W H Smith's and finally Woolies. We stopped and watched Morris Dancers do there stuff and took snaps for a while - (quite rightly) Chig wouldn't pose with them despite my protestations. He ain't the media whore I am.
He walked me back towards my hotel when I was due to meet Roger and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek to say goodbye. As he did this three teenage girls walking past made a big "ERRRRRRRRR!!!" sound in disgust when they saw us kiss. "Were they doing that to us?", Chig asked glancing across at me nervously. "Who cares?", I replied. And we didn't.
So a nice afternoon, with a nice guy. What more could you want?
Oh, apart from a four hour trip to the sauna later that day... but that's another story.