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By Rohini Banerjee Editorial Note: Every time around Valentine's Day we celebrate only one kind of love -- the heterosexual kind -- and queer love is hardly mentioned. Not all romantic love occurs bet...
He is the floor manager at a high-end fashion label. He deals with society WAGs, expats and A-listers over slices of toast (whole wheat) and scrambled eggs, everyone is always 15 minutes away -- so waiting is second nature. But the job has its perks too -- party invitations, supermodel friends and the occasional bottle of single malt whisky. The parties and the models can get exhausting, but the single malt never does, he grins.
'Do you watch Downton Abbey?' he asks me suddenly, and I notice the slightest hint of excitement in his voice. Well, at least he likes to adhere to one gay stereotype. I shake my head, and his smile droops a little. Saying that you don't watch Downton Abbey is like saying that you don't shop at the ZARA sale. I avoid telling him that I binge watched through six seasons of Gossip Girl, and download songs from Glee.
He's going to shuffle between the business and the auditions, as I shuffle between deciding whether I like him or not. The former shouldn't be too difficult - gay men are quite adept at handling double lives, and this one seems like a professional. The latter will take more time. Or another cappuccino.