When I was little, whenever I heard adults use the word 'Soho' it usually followed with the word 'poofter' 'gaylord' 'battyman'. So when I started experiences new sensations, partly because of the fear of seeing somebody that knew me or my members of my family and reporting my whereabouts and company I was keeping, going to Gay friendly bars clubs and restaurants is completely off limits. Kryptonite if you wanna look at it like that.
Then there was Diego;
South American consultant in his late 20s he had it all: looks, charm and good conversation so the scene was set. Nandos Baker St. neutral to him and me. Chemistry was there, conversation was chill so once we were once he suggested we go to a bar. In my mind I was thinking oh jheeze! the irony being the setting was the dreaded location I'd feared for the longest. SOHO.
Do I make my excuses and leave or, throw caution to the wind and run with it?
To be continued...
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