As Ian reports, I met a guy in Hamburg whom Ian is calling - for some unknown reason - Ludo. What he is too polite to mention is that although Ludo was very attractive, very affectionate, and completely smitten with me, he was also completely mad. [Well, he'd have to be, wouldn't he?]
We had, admittedly, spent a couple of utterly incredible hours together, prompting me to send Jonathan a text message later: Jesus Christ! They are well trained over here. Just had the best sex I have EVER had! And I meant it. But my alarm bells were ringing. I had to say goodbye to him six times before he let me leave: "You will come tomorrow, yes?" "Yes," I replied. And I meant it. I really, really meant it.
However, my alarm bells began ringing somewhere in the distance when I received a text message from him: To be right beside you - thats my wish... I kiss you Goodnight - have sweet Dreams and sleep tierd. And they started chiming louder still when he turned up at Tom's with a lame excuse about night-buses. [I had mentioned I'd be there later.] And they were clanging deafeningly when he engineered things so that it was too late for him to get home, and he had to stay with me in my hotel room. Again, he kept asking me if I would come meet him again tomorrow at six, and he burst into grateful tears when I reassured him that I would. And I meant it. I really, really meant it.
But things look different in the cold light of day. I'm not sure what made me realise it would be wise if I never saw him again - perhaps it was the surreptitious "what the fuck is he on?" looks from Andy over breakfast. Or perhaps it was the memory of waking up to find Ludo staring at me intently and whispering, "My David, my David, my David..."
But I had arranged to meet him, and I fully intended to. I really, really meant to. But then Ian, Andy and I had a carafe of wine. And another. Ludo sent me another text message: I had safe our Cabine... I'm a littel bit tierd but I also feel very good and hope I can hold you in my Arms again! Kiss...
Andy, Ian and I started thinking up excuses as to why I couldn't go meet him: "My friend Britta invited me to dinner, but she hasn't started cooking yet." "Andy is my jealous boyfriend, and he won't let me see you." "Ian and Andy are my masters and they have forbidden me to leave the hotel tonight." We decided it would be best to just tell the basic truth, and I sent him a text message: I'm sorry, Ludo, but I am not going to make it tonight.
As it turned out, he didn't get the message, and Ian had to be the bearer of bad news. Ludo was apparently heartbroken when he heard I wouldn't be coming. Hell hath no fury like a faggot scorned, and he stalked me in Tom's Saloon that night, quite properly refusing to listen to a word of my apology, and following me around, ensuring I was always in his sights.
Yes, he had every right to be angry and upset. Yes, I felt like a heel. Yes, I behaved reprehensibly. But yes, I think I made the right decision [though I should have handled it much better].