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Dutty Wine

My friend went on a blind date the other night. Her first. Apparently, she had been told the guy was tall, handsome, funny, clever, musical, a doctor. He had been described to her as looking like Adam from Spooks.

She’d prepared for the date all week – getting lots of rest, going to the gym, buying a new outfit (including shoes). She was incredibly excited. She did, however, say that she was sure it was going to be a massive disappointment.

They met in a bar in Central London. On first meeting, she wasn’t disappointed – he was indeed tall and handsome, very charming. He asked what she wanted to drink, she asked for a Leffe Blonde. He went to the bar, ordered their drinks and on his way back that’s when she realised: he’s gay.

She said it wasn’t just the too tight jeans and the leather jacket. It was the white wine. He had ordered white wine. For. Himself.

I told her that surely there are loads of straight men who drink white wine. “In a bar?” she asked. I had to concede,”That is a bit poofy, but I thought gay men were drinking cocktails these days.” She pointed out that this guy came out on a date with a woman, clearly by ordering white wine he was trying to hide his gayness. A Cosmopolitan would having given it away immediately.

I tried to think of any man I’ve ever known, friend or boyfriend, straight or gay, who has ever ordered white wine in a bar. Sure, we’ve had white wine with dinner, but in a bar? I couldn’t think of a single one.

So please, tell me, do you think the fact this guy ordered white wine in a bar makes him gay? I want answers people. My friend’s future depends on it.

Elsewhere.

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