Gay Gregory

Last night was the first time in ages that I didn't have to tell Gay Gregory to "Fuck off".
He was otherwise engaged. It was a classic Desmond Morris moment. The band was playing and Gay Gregory was sitting there with his pint of Kronenberg wearing his flourescent yellow jacket when this cute girl zoned in on him. She was hot. It was so obvious she was gagging for him. The body language was everything. We were supposed to be watching the band but all eyes were on Gay Gregory and this new girl. We were waiting for him to tell her he was Gay. He didn't.
She gave him the eyes. She gave him those subtle little touches on his shoulder, she sat facing him. Dave The Clown said "She might as well write it in block capitals."
So we watched for thirty minutes while new hot girl tried her luck with Gay Gregory. Dave the Chef said "Someone ought to tell her."
There was a huge chorus of "NO!"
New hot girl meanwhile was flicking her hair back and laughing, running her fingers through her hair, licking her lips and leaning forward.
Even train spotter guy could have scored last night.

Suddenly the situation changed. Gay Gregory leant forward as if to kiss her and whispered something in her ear. She sat back. She folded her arms. She crossed her legs She looked the other way. Her friends friends across the table gave her the "What?" look.
New hot girl twirled her index finger close to her temple "Nutter".
A minute later she'd got her coat and was away.
Gay Gregory sat there with his Kronenberg and flourescent yellow jacket. It was the first time in a long while I haven't had to tell him to "Fuck Off!"

iPod now playing - Drive in Saturday by David Bowie