"It's not discrimination, lads, honest!"
The time - early 90s. The place - Barclays Bank, Hessle Road branch, Hull.
The reason; Barry and I were making enquiries about mortgages and how much we could possibly get between us to buy a house together.
We never did find out - the branch's computer crashed as it got confused trying to work out why two males would want to do such a thing. The poor guy behind the counter was getting progressively red-faced, clearly wanting to reassure us it was nothing to do with our lifestyle. Honest, lads.
In the end he had to give up and and sheepishly suggested we try the main branch in the centre of the city. Or somewhere more gay-friendly. Like Amsterdam.
(Ok, that last bit was made up.)
Ultimately, Barry and I never did end up buying a house together. Through a number of circumstances our relationship ended after I moved to South Wales in 1995 to go to college in Newport. But we have remained great friends and visit each other whenever we can, which takes some doing given that I live in Cardiff and he just outside of Grimsby. When we do manage it though, it's just like old times (without the sex, obviously) - out come the French and Saunders/Victoria Wood/Ab Fab quotes that we have burned into our memories. It's a bit sad really - I can barely get through my times table but can quote every single line from Vicky's "shoe shop" sketch flawlessly. Flatter now!
Barry was my first long-term relationship. I remember meeting him for the first time outside the Westgate Shopping Centre in Oxford for a Young Friend meeting. It was November 1990. The other two guys there buggered off fairly early so Baz and I got chatting. I liked him from the start as he was completely non-scene (and I was getting scene weary by this time), intelligent and had just a superb sense of humour. Four months after that meeting we were renting the upstairs of an old lady's house in Botley. Our first home together!
We made the move up to Hull in 1992 after he had finished his degree at Westminster College (and we spent a month inter-railling - that was quite an experience). I loved living up there; we had a good circle of friends (the Hull Gay Men's Group!) and it wasn't too far to get to places like Manchester or Liverpool, just along the M62. Barry set up the Humberside branch of the LGCM (Lesbian and Gay Christian Movement) and we had some great meetings. (The Christian bit was lost on me, but the food, drink and company was always good!). And then there was my 25th birthday party, featuring Barry's infamous memory-wiping, hangover inducing punch that must have contained every alcoholic beverage known to mankind. And more. Needless to say I was not well the following day. Or week.
So I went back up north last weekend to visit him at his new place in Ulceby. And despite having a house full of flash Apple products and a brand new sporty Peugeot (well earned mind - he's one of the hardest working individuals I know) he hasn't changed much. Which is great - I wouldn't change a thing about him!
We went to Yorkshire Sculpture Park near Wakefield which had an excellent exhibition of Joan Miró sculptures. In the grounds of the park we walked, chatted and laughed about times past, and took photographs. Then I bought us lunch at the café there - tomato and basil soup. And I just couldn't resist it. Staggering toward the table where he was sitting and waving the tray around dangerously, I croaked,
"Two soups!"
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