A Lord of the Rings Fan Will Prevail, Even in UK’s Gay Capital
On a trip taken to win back love, I discovered that gay men found me attractive – besides also running into Gandalf.
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For more than a billion fans worldwide, a sudden glimpse of Shah Rukh Khan would probably make them go into paroxysms of sweet, sweet delight. I’ve heard stories of several fainting around his set (yup). But I’m not going to get too judgmental here; I’d always thought (before my trip to the UK) that I’d react the same way if I came across cast members of The Lord of the Rings. The fan boy in me would probably shriek, whoop and then die. Of course, before my trip to the UK I didn’t know that was ever a possibility...
But let’s rewind a bit. Remember how we left off on the epiphany of a seemingly-boring, eventually-soul-searching sort of trip to Cardiff (‘most boring city’, etc...)? Well, that was only the first leg of what was going to be one of my most memorable life experiences. My ex girlfriend and I headed to Sussex soon after. Sussex is called a number of flattering things – the ‘party capital’ of the UK, the ‘gay capital’ of the UK...you get the drift.
My best friend who had made the grand-trip-of-foolish-love with me had a number of friends in the county, having studied here before – which meant cheap accommodation wasn’t a problem.
Alcohol May Wipe Memories, and Tape Footballs to Your Feet
We went to this pub called The Elephant Bar where I met a bunch of interesting people – a Pakistani guy who vehemently disavowed Pakistan, a couple of seriously drunk Bombay women and a random lurker who was doped out of his mind. I also tried Guinness – dark beer – for the first time in my life, and here’s where it gets interesting. I have no memory of what happened next, except that for some inexplicable reason I woke up the next morning, shirtless, on the pebbled beaches of Brighton (my best friend and the random Pakistani guy in similar states of undress), with – get this – a football taped to my foot.
At Sussex’s ‘Gay’ Club, the Big, Bad Dance-off
If you thought I was having the kind of movie-funny trip where everything was going wrong – you couldn’t be more right. One fine evening (our third in the city), our Pakistani friend from the Elephant Pub appeared with a posse of women to take us to a party. And it was quite a party!
Now, I must have you know that at no point do I ever brag about my good looks, and that is simply because I don’t have any. But on that particularly fine evening, I had 11 homosexual men make a bunch of colourful passes at me. Yes, my new Pakistani friend had neglected to inform me that we we were at a ‘gay’ club
Club Revenge (the three-floor gay club in Brighton) is a fun place – and that’s putting it mildly. An hour and 12 shots later, I felt like I was starring in a bad reenactment of American Pie, part 26 1/2 and had already been hit on by half the club – including being challenged to a dance-off by a guy in shiny leather pants and gold top. And boy, did the Bollywood fan in me dance. Once, my wildly gyrating, humiliating performance was over, I had men all over me. One even came up with this gem: “Hey good looking, do you want to snort cocaine off my belly”. It was time to make a quick getaway.
In a Quaint Little Pub in Sussex, Emerges Gandalf, My Hero
I will never feel more grateful than I did that night for Club Revenge. For despite all its little quirks (cocaine-snorting predators, I mean) it brought me out to look for a quieter, peaceful place. And I discovered The Globe, that lucky, lucky place, where I met HIM, as he emerged out of a mirage of fanboy fantasy – Gandalf himself.
This quaint little pub near the beach is exquisite for a drink with a friend, and as I sat there, glass in hand, I began to wonder at the strange and bizarre day I’d been having. No sooner had the thought formed in the head than an old, rather inconspicuous gentleman walked out of the pub’s kitchen and towards the exit door. Dressed in a grey overcoat, a muffler and a golf hat, I was suddenly struck with a strange idea – he looked rather like an aged Sherlock Holmes.
But then I saw his face – and I am not ashamed to say that I screamed. Gandalf! Magneto! Dude! That’s Ian McKellen. He heard me. He turned to face me. And what he said will probably be etched in my memory as my sweatiest, nerdiest fanboy moment ever. “Run, you fools!” he mouthed – lines he’d said to Frodo and the gang in that legendary scene from The Fellowship of the Ring when he fell into the pits with Balrog. (For the uninitiated, that’s the demon that lurked in the underworld in the Mines of Moria).
He smiled, turned back and went out the door. I wanted to run and talk to him, ask for his autograph, beg for a picture, but I was too drunk and my legs had turned into jelly. I was later told by a friend that he owned the bar.
Parting Note…
I’ve already mentioned, of course, that this was my grand-trip-of-foolish-love and that everything else merely circled around it like globes on an axis. But there are some memories that stand out – like definitive milestones – and meeting Ian McKellen was certainly mine.
(Shibaji Roychoudhury was named after someone who wanted to conquer and inspire. Unfortunately, he is far too ambitious for that. Based out of Delhi, he has travelled across the globe and has some pretty funny tales to tell. Watch out for his next one.)
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