Beer goggles for the soul.

Last night I went to a party in a cool city bar, hosted by a friend of mine. This friend knows everybody in the world who is cooler than anyone I know, which means that he has a vast social circle. I always meet interesting new people at his parties, and since most of them are gay it's always a good way to make connections.

When I arrived I bought an expensive martini from the cute gap-toothed barman and found a friendly acquaintance to catch up with. After a while he in turn introduced me to a flamboyantly charming man with a pronounced beer gut that he was given to stroking, with a sort of absent-minded tenderness. He also chattered entertainingly at high speed in almost non sequiturs that you could only follow if you were paying attention. When I finished my expensive (and exquisite) martini he grandly bought me another one, probably without realising just how exhorbitantly priced they were.

The host came over and I caught up with his life, as I haven't seen him in nearly six months. He introduced us to a friend of his who was visiting from overseas, a tall, drawling blonde with a short scruffy beard and raw sex appeal oozing from every pore. After we'd all chatted for a while, the host and his visiting friend drifted away to do some more mingling. A few minutes later, I looked over and saw the friend standing by himself in a corner.

I'm usually very shy, but it's amazing how forward I can be with a couple of martinis in me. I got up and went over to talk with him. I felt it was a kind thing to do, since he didn't really know anyone there. The fact that he was golden tanned, hot bodied and head-spinningly gorgeous had nothing to do with it.

Interestingly enough, he matched a suspicion I've long had about the very good-looking. Firstly, he was boring. He talked endlessly about the minutae of his work and his opinions about the world. Secondly, he seemed to assume that I held exactly the same social and political views as he did. Perhaps he'd never been contradicted before - everyone he met just smiled and nodded and said, "Hmmm, you're so right."

I wasn't quite that bad. Sure, I smiled and nodded, but if I didn't actually tell him he was wrong, I at least suggested that there were alternate ways of looking at things. All while thinking, Yes, yes, whatever, enough of this; I just want to tear your clothes off right here and now.

Eventually tedium overcame even the advanced case of lust I was experiencing, and I introduced him to some other guys in order to ditch him. Then I went off to find someone ugly and fascinating to talk to.