FLASHBACK #11: Slutty eyes on a dancefloor

By the time April 2002 had arrived, I had already been home on a couple of long weekends - the firm had kindly agreed to pay for me to return to the UK once per month, something Thing didn't approve of. In her mind, if she didn't get it, nobody should get it.

The nights out in Helsinki continued. I would stay with my friend in Kallio and, on the weekend of my birthday, we planned to party, party, party. When I arrived on the Friday night, we settled down in his living room with a drink and caught up with eachother. I told him I had a feeling that I was going to meet someone that night, that I had seen a guy a few times in the bar and we had exchanged smiles, but nothing more. 'You've exchanged smiles?' he asked, sarcastically. I changed the subject, but six hours later, in the bar, there he was!

If anybody had slutty eyes, it was the guy who was looking at me through the mass of people on the dancefloor. There must have been twenty people between him and I, yet his eyes were firmly planted on me. Time seemed to stand still as we smiled at one another across the room. My favourite song at the time, Kylie Minogue's 'In Your Eyes' came on and I just had to dance. I slowly worked my way through the small, but packed dancefloor, singing every word of the fantastic song - it was truly a magical time in Kylie's career, having just enjoyed phenomenal success with her song, 'Can't You Outta My Head'.

By the time the song had kicked into the second verse, the guy with slutty eyes was nearby. He didn't retreat nor did he shut off his gaze. This was it, it was actually happening. Just as I had implied earlier in the evening, this guy WAS interested. We danced together and I sang my way through the rest of the song. As the song came to an end, I asked if I could buy him a drink. He accepted and we made our way off the dancefloor. In the distance, I could see my friend looking on, mouth agape, catching flies!

Over a drink, we got to know eachother. Apart from the American-English accent (which he had acquired by living in the States for a year), I liked what I could see and what he had to say. After about an hour, we were off out of the bar, heading to his place. He lived just twenty minutes walk away and, when we arrived, he said he had a dog and that she needed to be exercised first. No worries, I thought, I love dogs.

In a way, the walk to his place and the hour with the dog constituted our first date. When we walked past a cemetery, I was starting to get worried, as if I had idealised the evening, assumed too much. When we got back to him place, he asked if I would like cup of tea. Being British and not knowing him too well, I didn't know if he was being serious or if he was being sarcastic. He made a lovely pot of tea, before we headed to bed.

One thing I would like to point is that we didn't do anything that night. I think we both liked eachother too much, that we didn't want this to result in a one-night stand. We hugged throughout the night and, after an early breakfast, he had to go. He had arranged to return the dog to his parents some 200km away. 'Will I see you again?' I asked, as he drove me to Kallio, back to my friend's place. We arranged to meet in the bar again that evening.

I spent most of that day looking forward to the evening. And when the evening came, we danced, chatting some more and, to cut a long story short, a relationship was born.

We parted again on the Sunday as I returned to Kallio to spend time with my friend. In the late afternoon, my friend and I had dinner at Memphis, a restaurant near the Railway Station. I had a ticket for 7pm to return to Tampere. The 'new guy' joined us for a drink and my friend made a quick exit, allowing us to have time together. Playing footsie under the table, he asked if I could stay another night. I explained that I had already bought my ticket and he said that tickets can be changed in Finland upto the point of departure. I considered it. He said he would drive me to the train station in the morning, assuring me that I wouldn't be late for work.

We spent that evening together, listening to music, having cuddles. It had been a perfect weekend. I had never felt like this about another man before and, on the train at 6.30am the next morning, I felt a huge sense of loss as the train left the city behind. Where would we go from here? Would I see him again?