The next Friday, Paul checked into a budget chain hotel in Manchester. He could afford a better hotel, but he wanted the anonymity. He left the room at nearly 10:00 p.m. and headed straight for the place he always came to when he had these monthly “weekends away.”
Canal Street. The gay pubs and bars. He never dared go to any of the scene bars back home. Not that there were many. Two pubs that put a rainbow flag out. One monthly gay night at their one nightclub. He’d never been. The town was too small to dare.
Here he was anonymous. Just another guy looking for a guy to spend a night with. He usually found one. He scrubbed up okay when he made an effort, had a good head of hair, and he was still young, not quite thirty yet. The time would come eventually when he couldn’t be sure of pullin
