31 And Still Out In Soho – Am I A Tragic Mess?
posted 27 March 2015
I recently turned the tender age of 31 and while it’s had absolutely no effect on my life, it has got me thinking about the next annual nail in the coffin, 31. Do I have to change my irresponsible ways and act like a grown up next year? Or is it acceptable to continue on my odyssey of cock and booze a little while longer? I don’t feel like I’m physically changing so why should I curb my penchant for fun and frolics? Well there are some scene queens that believe over 30 is retiring age in Soho and that this is my last year of being the gal about town….We shall see.
My friend, who is also teetering on the brink of 30, explained to me an interesting experiment he tried on the Gay Network App. He didn’t change his profile pictures or description, all he did was change his age from 29 to 25. Within hours he was inundated with messages from guys asking him ‘what he’s on here for’, sending him cock pics and simply asking the classic: “Hey”. He decreased his age even further down to 20 and found he was even more popular. When did we gays become so age conscious?? If my poor friend looks hot what does his age have to do with it? It’s not like our genitals turn sour or rotten after our 25th year?
Last weekend myself and a friend decided to venture into GAY bar, it had been a long time since I had set foot in this rather grimy establishment (having moved up the ladder to Ku bar and Circa) but it held fond memories and they do glasses of wine for £1.50. We stood in the middle of the bar with our cheap, dirty wines; lightly bobbing along to the music. We both looked on amazed as 19 year old twinks jumped about the room like fucking jelly beans in the Hadron Collider, spilling their cheap drinks all over each other and cackling like fish wives on crack. It was a mess. Had we been like this at their age? I presume we must have, so happy at being out the closet and so eager to be with like minded folk. We didn’t stay long, feeling old and too sombre for this boisterous crowd.
Looking around Soho we wondered if perhaps it was just a place for the young to come and explore their sexualities. Most bars are geared towards the younger crowd and the ones that aren’t tend to be deemed sleazy and un-cool (Compton’s anyone?)
I refuse to believe that I only really have another year of frolicking around the bars of Soho before I’m deemed a tragic old gay, who needs to wake up and fuck off to Half Way to Heaven. Surely age is just a number and your social life should be determined by how you feel both physically and mentally. In both cases I’m pretty stunted, so I guess I’ll carry on trying to keep up with the hyper little jelly beans of GAY.