So to the story and I was going for dinner with Phil. Now is you don’t know who ‘Phil’ is… well ‘Phil’ is the world famous sex therapist Dr Cockney. And I was waiting for him with James (my director and slum landlord) and James’s Girlfriend, the lovely Sarah….. whose name I had forgotten when I first met up with them and I had to avoid mentioning her name by dodging all those situations where you have to address some one by name (we’ve all done it – even you James) until it had been mentioned that her name was Sarah….. I digress. Again.

So up in the unbelievably posh area of London in Hampstead we needed a pub to wait in – James, for reasons I have yet to work out, chose the only gay pub in that area. First things first it was a great place. The bar men friendly, the drinks top and reasonable priced and the music fantastic (it always is in gay bars – sort it out you hetro bastards) and we are sat there, myself, James and his Girlfriend waiting for Dr Cockney.

In walks Cockers and if you haven’t met him (having seen how many shows he has made I believe this to be a fantastically small number)…. well he’s a great touchy feely guy, who is pretty snazzily dressed and we hadn’t seen each other for a while, so he gives me a big hug to say hello. Can you see where I’m going with this? It looked like I was in there with my straight couple waiting for my big bear of a benefactor (alliteration there) of a sugar daddy to turn up and take me out for a meal! We all chatted, laughed and collected the free packs of condoms and lube that they had on the side (why don’t they give them out in all places straight or gay? Its not like we have a problem in this country with teen pregnancies and sexual diseases) which all just added to the image of us looking like the aforementioned couple who had just cruised each other.
I suppose the upshot is that Dr Cockles did pay for my meal and I do like the Supremes. Make your judgments now.