I was out with some middle aged women friends of mine the other evening, listening to stories from lives I cannot contemplate.
Hearing all about the Moulin Rouge themed hen night, the cab driver's reaction to having such a break from the norm, or was this the norm for a Saturday night?
They were fifteen women and one man, a gay man, good-looking ("why are they always so good-looking? It's such a waste").
"Was he camp?" I said, winding her up.
"Oh no, he was well-built, all-man. You would never tell from looking at him."
And that is how things are nowadays, you can't tell from looking at people.
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