A few years ago, my beloved Fred came to work high-panting.
I was so alarmed at this behaviour that I set up a blog and asked for your thoughts.
The effect of all this unwanted attention was that Freddie stepped back from the edge of the marmite motorway and normal family life prevailed.
Whilst this news was of great relief to his family, my almost-a-cliché gay mate Dean was devastated, as he’d had his eye on our Swedish lovely for quite a while … and while his spirits soared when I posted this photo of Fred …
… he was to end up disappointed once more when he found out the snaps were simply Fred at the TBWA Christmas party.
Now I find the whole ‘hidden homosexual’ thing quite interesting.
Not in a schoolboy snigger kind of way, but from a human interest perspective – because I can’t imagine how hard it must be to feel one way and act another.
Yeah … yeah … in some ways, we all have a false/aspired image we try and keep up, but this isn’t about some pathetic ‘status’ goal, this is something far deeper and emotional.
The reason I bring this up is that I think I may have found a person I can ask about this … and it’s no other than my oldest and best friend, Paul.
As I’ve said before, I’ve known this man all my life.
We have been through all our life’s highs and lows together and he is the closest thing to a brother I have.
I used to even joke that if he was an attractive woman, I’d of married him … but something has come to light that makes me believe there’s the possibility he would of wanted to marry me just as I am.
Yes I know he’s very happily married to a bloody wonderful woman …
Yes I know he was a bouncer – once to an exotic dancer with a bloody snake!!!
Yes I know he has ‘lads’ weekends where even looking at a flower is deemed ‘gay’ …
Yes I know when he was about 14 years of age he’d occasionally risk everything and go into the one-eyed [that’s not a euphemism] newsagent opposite Nottingham’s main Police Station to buy the latest copy of ‘Razzle’
[Sidestory: Once, after buying a copy, Paul was waiting at the bus stop to go home. For some reason, the magazine fell out of the brown paper bag he was clutching with all his might and landed with an unceremonious splat on the pavement. To make matters worse, it had somehow opened up to reveal the ‘centre fold’ in all its gynaecological glory. Of course I burst out in hysterical laugher which drew the attention from the fellow bus passengers which resulted in them starring at the magazine … then at Paul … then the magazine … then at Paul until the bright red fool managed to bend down, pick it up and stuff it in his jacket. The icing on the cake – for me at least – was that one of the people who saw this sad little perv was a woman who worked as a waitress at the restaurant I was a pot-washer at. Paul stopped popping in to see me for about 6 months. Hahaha!]
Yes I know he’s too ugly and unfashionable to be gay …
Yes I know he’s about as sensitive as an Australian male …
… but something tells me that despite all this, he’s hiding something – not just from me, but possibly from himself.
To be honest I had my suspicions when he decided to get a Superman tattoo even though it was a well known subliminal emblem for homosexuality.
He claimed he got it because Jon Bon Jovi had one – which I admit, threw me off the scent for a bit – though now, 20 years later, I realise that was possibly his first attempt at broaching the subject with me.
Of course I could be wrong … maybe all this behaviour is not a cry for help … so to ensure I don’t upset him and ruin 38 years of friendship, could you have a look at the evidence I’ve compiled and tell me, IS PAUL SECRETLY GAY?
Aged 3 or 4 … and he’s wearing a tie!!!
The heavy rock phase. Or the ‘look-like-a-woman’ phase!!!
Experimenting with ‘high-camp’ photo poses.
Dear God, what was he thinking?
The closet doors finally open?
Whatever the answer – I’ll always love you Paul – I just will ask you to stop hugging me when you see me!