Chapter 5 - Birmingham Boy

The Mars Bar.
Again.

I found myself at Mars more and more over the next few months - Either through birthday parties, or drinks with mates - and each time was exactly the same; the same music... the same guys... the same stories being told in the beer garden... the same drag act. It got to the stage where I could almost set my watch to the DJ's playlist... Pink would transition into the Britney remix which would then transition into Christina Aguilera which would then (undoubtedly) move into the Kylie Minogue Mega Mix.

It was like the Groundhog Day of Nightclubs.

And so, as I stood to the side of the dancefloor with my drink (as drinks were not allowed on the dance floor, lest you risk a tap on the shoulder by the large moustached bouncer) I surveyed the crowd through the strobing lights and smoke machine - Beanie-Boy (who always wore a beanie pulled tight down over his head, sometimes even over one eye) was dancing in his usual position at the front of the dancefloor... Singlet-Guy (a 40-something man with a clear Peter-Pan complex, who always wore singlets no matter how cold it was) stood in the shadows to the side... Balloon-Man (an older 'gent' who once told me he owned a Hot Air Balloon) sat at his normal corner of the bar, striking up conversation with whichever guy had the misfortune of ordering a drink next to him...

Ceeeeelebrate good times, COME ON!

It was probably midway through the Kylie Mega Mix that I spotted him - Standing up by the stairs to the beer garden; He was shorter than me, with short, brown hair which had been fashioned into a sort of crew cut. Surpringly he was wearing a large, loose shirt (unbuttoned, at least, at the collar) which was doing him no favours at all when compared to every other skin-tight t-shirt currently gyrating on the dancefloor. He looked fresh and seemingly uninterested in what was happening around him - I watched him glance around the room before pulling his mobile out of his pocket.

Ahh... the old "Im going to look like Im waiting for someone by pretending Im sending a text message" trick. I recognised this immediately, because I'd used the trick myself on a number of occasions...

This guy looked so out of place he may as well have hung a sign around his neck that read "NEW GUY".

I shrugged to myself - I guessed I could either stand there and continue to watch the night play out on 'repeat', or I could go and talk to the new guy. I chose the latter.

Now I admit - When it comes to striking up conversations with complete strangers, Im generally pretty good... Not shy when it comes to conversation, and finding things in common to talk about is a strength Im rather proud of - That's outside of any situation concerning guys - With guys, Im practically the opposite. Moving across to the other side of the room, I stood myself close enough to the new guy to be within talking distance (or at least be heard over the thumping bass of the latest SClub7/5ive Mash-up) We exchanged eye contact and a smile as I now surveyed the room next to him. He reached for his phone again...

"Waiting for someone?..." I asked, loud enough to be heard.
"Nah..." He smiled in reply "...Im text'n meh sisteh".
I think he said he was texting his sister... It was hard to tell over the music.
He smiled again. "Ah ye ere'aloon?"
"Sorry?"
"AH YE ERE'ALOON?" he repeated
"Am I here alone?" I repeated back.
"Yeah!"
"Nah, Im here with some mates..." I replied. Only God knew where they'd gotten to, I hadn't seen anyone in about 1/2 an hour... The new guy smiled again - He had dimples to die for.
"A'vin a'goed wen?" He shouted.
I nodded.
I had no idea what he had asked, but I nodded.
I gestured to the room "Have you been to Mars before?..."
He shook his head "Nah, aive jus moov'd ere" he laughed "Weh, Kin ye'tell?"
I nodded again and smiled. "Yeah, kind of..."

Conversation went from there - Brendan introduced himself and we exchanged a handshake. Offering to buy him a drink, he agreed as the music shut off and the standard announcement to clear the dancefloor boomed across the speakers - The drag show was about to begin - As a wave of jocks, bears, twinks and fairies surged towards us, we were pushed in the opposite direction from the bar and back towards the dancefloor...

Guess we were watching the drag show, then...

The show ran its usual course - A tragic group dance number... a tragic solo number... and then general high-jinx shenanigans with the head drag queen and the crowd...

"Do we have any fiiiirst tiiiimersss?" she/he crowed from the stage. Fiiiirst tiiiimerssss....
Naturally, not knowing what was involved, Brendan put his hand up. The host spotted him instantly before I had the chance to pull his hand down to remain inconspicuous.
"They'll pull you up on stage!" I whispered...
"Wha...?"
But it was too late... The damage had been done, and as the crowd cheered Brendan was dragged up on stage.

"Ooooh, helloooo" the hostess sighed. "And whatssss your name?"
"Brendan."
"First time here, Brendan..."
"Aye, 'tis"
On hearing his accent, the hostess creamed herself with excited "AN ACCENT? And where are you from, sexy boy?"
"Birmingham..." Brendan replied with a smile
The hostess wrapped her manly arm around him "Biiiiiiirminghaaaaam!... And are you single?"
"Aye."
The crowd cheered.
"And are you going to get your cock out for us, Brendan?" the hostess shouted. The crowd cheered louder as Brendan realised that he was suddenly part of the show - It was your general run of the mill Mars drag show as far as I was concerned, but for the new guy who had never seen the been before, how was he supposed to know that any new guy that got dragged up on stage was normally asked to get his dick out. He shot me a suddenly shocked look of surprise.
Shaking himself playfully from the grasp of the hostess, he declined the chance.
"WHO WANTS TO SEE COCK!?" The hostess screamed again, and like rabid dogs hungry for blood, the crowd cheered once more. Brendan shook his head... "Nah, no wey!".
Though he never stopped smiling, Birmingham Boy had turned a distinct shade of crimson. Grace under pressure.
As he was dismissed from stage with a free drinks pass and a slap on the back, the final drag dance began. Returning to my side, he raised his eyebrow at me "Jesus, Im not get'n me todger out up there!"
Shrugging, I laughed. "They do it to everyone! You'd be surprised what you get... "

We watched the show finish side by side.

As the final dance came to a close, I suddenly became distinctly aware of the eyes in the room - Everyone was staring at Brendan... And of course, I could understand why: Good looking guy, new to the club, foreign... It was a hook-ups dream.

We moved up to the beer garden as soon as the show was done, and like seagulls fighting for a chip at the beach we were mobbed by several guys who clearly weren't interested in me, but my new friend Birmingham Boy. I had never seen anything like it in all my times at Mars - A group literally formed around us - Brendan had become fair game.

Questions, comments, jokes... Conversation between us had become near impossible with interruption after interruption of guys all desperate to get his attention. I took my chance while I could.

"Give me your phone!" I muttered quietly. Without question, Brendan handed over his Nokia.
I punched in my number and saved it under "Josh - Mars" so that there was no question of who I was. Handing it back to him, I decided to play a card I'd never used before - The Mystery Card.

"Dude, Im gonna cruise!" I whispered into his ear while an older guy retold his 'Holiday in Birmingham Story" to a less than interested Brendan. "Have fun with all this!..."
He turned to me and grabbed my shoulder "Yer goin?!" He exclaimed. I quickly explained my number in his phone, and told him to give me a buzz tomorrow when all the "men had cleared" He nodded and rolled his eyes as I moved away from the clawing, vapid mess that had surrounded us.

Glancing back before leaving the beer garden, I saw the group surrounding Birmingham Boy tighten and increase... Honestly, you'd think Colin Farrel had come to The Mars Bar the way everyone was behaving.

With a smirk, I left the club.

- - - - -

As agreed, Brendan called me the next day and we joked about the craziness of the night before. After chatting for a while about how our nights ended up, we decided to continue conversation over a meal - Brendan didn't have a car, so I offered to pick him up and drive us together.

"D'ye know the carpark 'cross the rohd by th shopp'n cenner?"

I did. We organised at 6.30 pickup.

Things went smoothly. I pulled up to a smartly dressed Brendan waiting on the corner like a gigolo. Climbing in, we exchanged hellos again and continued conversation where we left off previously.

Talking with Brendan was great, but I really struggled with his accent. When he got going, I caught three, maybe four words out of every sentence - and rather than asking him to slow down or repeat what he had said, I would simply nod and smile like I knew exactly what he was saying. We talked about life in Adelaide (he was studying nursing... of course) life in Birmingham (which he loved, and missed) friends (he didn't have many yet) and family (and his brothers, or as he referred to them "Our Tony" and "Our Caleb") - It was cute. He was cute. Things were going well...

"Las' week me ma came doon fer me birthdey..." he casually mentioned between mouthfuls "Twas good te se'er agehn... "
"Awesome... A birthday huh... How old are you?" I asked.
He paused to take a drink and then continued - "Jus' turned 17"

I stopped mid-chew. Imaginary Josh stood up quickly in my minds eye - Don't looked shocked!
"Woooow..." I smiled, picking my words carefully. "Happy Birthday to you!"

I had just turned 26. Birmingham Boy was 9 years younger than me.
That, AND still not even 18 yet.

Growing up with a younger brother, I had somehow made a rule for myself that I would never date a guy younger than him - Jake was 3 years younger than me, so at 26 that made my 'cut off point' 23 years old. Birmingham Boy was still 6 years younger than that. I wasn't even OUT at 17 years of age, let alone standing on a stage at a gay-bar with a crowd shouting at me to get my cock out... Imaginary Josh held a sign up in me head: ABORT MISSION!

I didn't know how to continue - It suddenly occured to me that we were drinking wine - I was supplying a minor! A minor who I had every intention of taking back to my house and shagging senseless up until about 5 minutes prior to finding out he still technically couldn't even hire movies like Trainspotting or Apocalypse Now from the video store...

We finished our meals (and he finished his wine) and I began to draw the night to a close - I felt dirty! Suddenly, somehow, I had become The Balloon Man - The older gent - And I was only twenty-fucking-six! How was Birmingham Boy even allowed into The Mars Bar? I mean, he definitely looked older than 17. Imaginary Josh sat up in my minds eye and pointed a finger: He looked older, Your Honour!

We drove home listening to the radio - It was late, so I could forgive the guy for being tired (it was probably past his bedtime anyway) And our conversation became a lazy back and forth. Dropping him off at his house, I shook his hand.

"Great night, thanks!" I smiled. "Was fun..."
"Yeah, 'twas goed..." He concurred.

We parted ways quite amicably, and stayed in touch a bit here and there via random sms or msn conversation. He continued his nursing studies and settled into life here in Adelaide nice and comfortably, though it was safe to say that Birmingham Boy was not a guy I felt the need to catch up with again; That ship had well and truly sailed!

An alcoholic with a chemical imbalance... A religious fundamentalist... A guy with a truth complex... A party boy with questionable morals...

And now, a minor...

Doing well so far!

And thus, the search continued...