Saturday 5th September 2009
Have you seen what’s happened? Just mention an unknown Italian waiter and there’s an eruption of comment such as we’ve never seen before. It’s sex, of course. Forget my elevated musing on the subject of being paid for. Far more important to air views on a nameless waiter unlikely to be seen or heard of again.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ll have to look at the comments on the previous posting, ‘On Being Paid For’.
Perhaps we’ll have to have more sex in the blog.
But it’s getting dangerous. Mottram is up to something. He sent a threatening private message yesterday. It said, ‘Watch it’. Asked to explain, he did not reply. Well, he mentioned kitchens in his comment, which is his name for very young boys/men he likes so I had no choice but to explain in the glossary. Of course, I am cast in the role of bitter, jealous monster. But what does it mean that he calls them kitchens, which is complicated short-hand for chickens? Besides, rich older man with youthful (but not illegal, of course) boyfriend plus one or both of them with sister/wife figure (in other words, me, Adrian Edge) trailing along behind and that relationship often more continuous and ultimately satisfactory is a feature of poor little rich gay life. It is surely seen in straight relationships too, but with gays living this exaggerated kind of existence (I suppose I mean more freedom, fewer ties, children etc) and the further aspect, in the case of the poor little rich gays, of considerable wealth, it shows up more.
So it has to be explored. And followed. What will happen? The main reason for remaining alive is: what will happen next? The great drawback of being dead is no news, no developments, missing out on the latest. If the dead came back they’d be so last year we wouldn’t know what to say to them. So what will happen to this curious trio of me, Adrian Edge, and Anthony Mottram, companions of forty years, and Vladimir from the Ukraine?
There is also the phenomenon, going back to the poor waiter at Volpaia, of intense sexual interest in ‘unsuitable’ people; in other words, if they don’t speak English, aren’t especially educated (although that young man might have been a PHD student, for all I know), are unlikely to want to settle down in comfortable, baggy, boring companionship, all the better.
Anthony Mottram has suggested that I join a group from Prague, including Vladimir from the Ukraine, his current boyfriend, for a few days in Istanbul in October. I don’t think I can go because that is when I holiday with the Gay Mother. She has sent for a new passport and has been looking for the cork forests of Southern Spain in the atlas. So we have that thrilling prospect. She is 85, you know.
But Mottram has made no mention of a holiday for just the two of us. It now nearly four years since we had a week in Tobago. Is it too much to ask? Of course, he would say I meanly fucked off with the Multis to Tuscany and refused the usual summer holiday with the two of them. At times this is how Mottram makes me feel:
Adrian Edge martyred by Anthony Mottram
Is this childish? I hope so. Poor Little Rich Gays can afford not to grow up and become sensible.
Final word on the Volpaia waiter: I see I have allowed his person to be openly picked over. Let’s hope he never hears of it. Robert Nevil and Anthony Mottram prefer scrawny, near-starved little scraps; our Italian friend is burly, so not their type. He is also, I state definitively, handsome and engaging by any standard, particularly in his method of service which is: jaw drops as third bottle of wine at 60 euros is requested and order repeated incredulously: ‘You want another one?’
Yes, we do want another one; that’s the trouble.
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Your Gracious Selves,
I am Vivienne Bar Tendah-Smallmeal, sister of the late Sir Clifford Bar Tendah-Smallmeal, Governor of the Bank of Maputo, and fondest aunt of Rupert Bar-Tendah Smallmeal, son of Sir Clifford, lately my ward and now, in his grief, head of the African Smallmeals.
I beseech a few minutes of your precious time to put forward a business proposition that I feel sure will be of interest to you. Due to a technical difficulty clouding the last moments of my late brother’s life, papers establishing his title to a shipment of high-grade zinc ore were left unsigned on his demise. The value of this metal asset is estimated at 156,000,000,000 USD. Sir Clifford’s death has left our family in a great and sudden darkness (lightened only by your gay and joyful blog, in which, by good fortune my nephew Rupert found reference to the English Smallmeals) and we do not currently possess reliable funds with which to release the aforementioned metal assets from escrow.
Please be so good as to recommend our plight to the Multis (Rupert assures me they are children of the good Lord, tidy gentlemen, and of a generous disposition) , to Sir Anthony, and to Smallmeal, or his sidekick.
We are waiting for your kind reply.
We are also able to consider a marriage of convenience, or even civil partnership, to any of you good Sirs.
Yours in the great sadness of recent loss, and amidst difficulties borne with dignity but hitherto unknown,
Vivienne Bar Tendah-Smallmeal
I am young Russian boy, 19 y.o., Kharkov, passport, can travel. Please send pics, contact, Anthony Mottram, also Robert Nevil.
This is normal African email. Ignore it safely. There is same Smallmeal email in Bulgaria. He is now in prison here. It was on TV.
Dear Precious Vivienne Bar Tendah-Smallmeal
My heart bleeds for your plight. I will endeavour to publicise your difficulties as widely as possible. How much is required to release the zinc shipment from escrow? I had no idea the Smallmeals extended to Africa. It is commonly understood that Robin Smallmeal sprang from a low-rise street of terraced houses near the station at Stevenage. You refer to ‘Sir Anthony’. I assume you mean Mottram. This is curious. He longs for a knighthood but has not yet gained one.
I detect the mischievous keyboard of Robert Nevil in the above. I know his love of Biblical phraseology.
I am Russian boy, 19 y.o., Kharkov, strong, willful, determined. Able travel. Please send pics, contact, Anthony Mottram, Robert Nevil, Dmitri Hersov.
I cannot allow any suggestion that Robin Smallmeal is in prison. Commentators must be careful what they say. It is true that a person an absolute dead-ringer for Smallmeal was seen this summer on posters all over Bulgaria advertising, in an avuncular fashion, a processed cheese called ‘Creme Bonjour’. There is no harm in the suggestion that Smallmeal supplements his huge salary as head of the landfill sites in the UK (or whatever) in this manner. This shows enterprise and initiative and is thoroughly admirable. It is thought that Smallmeal has regular work of this kind all over the central of Europe. Please get in touch if you spot this gentleman blown up large on the roadside as you motor through the old Eastern bloc. He is easily recognised: well-upholstered, apparently genial figure, mid-fifties, conspicuous dyed hair (varies from ash-blond to burnished copper although, in real life, as we know, he has gone back to grey), florid complexion,appears lovable uncle-figure, in stripped apron, not quite straw boater; might be successful and adored pork butcher or purveyor of charcuterie in touristic French town. Is in fact, as we know, head of landfill (or whatever) in this country and massively important rich gay
What Biblical phraseology? I do wish commentators would respond to the issues in hand rather than veering off with their own nonsense
Commentators should not be seeking special favours
As Robin’s sister-in-law, I stumbled across this website and I am appalled at the number of disparaging comments about my honourable brother-in-law. Clearly this is unacceptable. Can you please desist immediately or I will have to take further action which will include informing Robin.
Perhaps you could explain in what manner you are Robin Smallmeal’s sister-in-law and why you think comments about your so-called brother-in-law are disparaging? I also doubt your grammar. What do you mean, ‘As Robin’s sister-in-law, I stumbled…’ Do you imply that being Robin’s sister-in-law caused you to stumble or that in your capacity as Robin’s sister-in-law you stumbled? One action appears to be deliberate, the other not.
On Adrian’s final comment on the Italian waiter – I am in full agreement with him (as I know Marcus Cargill will be) and thank him for creating a more comprehensive portrait. He may not appeal to the likes of Mottram or Nevil (or Laura Malcolm for that matter who at least has actually seen him once) – but so what. Incidentally I see my name mentioned by Mr Ilya Kuryakin (whom I do not know) in the company of those gentlemen (whom I only very occasionally come across socially) – I do not understand why but it does not look good.
I am Robin’s sister-in-law and that is that.