Perils of Gay Student Life
1. Flathunting
The basic choice facing a young queer intent on finding a flatshare can be boiled down to three words: homos or heteros? While sharing with breeders has its moments, many gay men simply find the gay flatshare to be the easier option (although the popularity of the straight girl/gay boy scenario so beloved of sitcom writers can’t be denied).
Whenever possible it’s best to move in with people you know, to avoid the trauma of replying to an ad. Responding to a classified ad for a gay flatshare is an experience no human should have to endure. Having spoken to a reasonably pleasant-sounding individual on the phone, you turn up at No. 69 Gaspipe Bend with your gladrags on and your hair waxed to perfection. On ringing the bell, you are greeted by a) two vicious scene queens who cackle as they ask where you got that top, b) a guy whose floor you vomited on during a one-night-stand two years ago or c) a lecherous old toad called Nigel who’s twice as old as he said in the ad.
On viewing the rooms, you discover that your’s is invariably the smallest
and the dampest, and the mattress is covered in some worrying stains. Nigel
also informs you that the door of your room doesn’t actually have a lock...
2. The Gay Flatshare
When you eventually find somewhere nice, or just move in with your mates, the problems could only be beginning. Johnny comes home alone from a night out, and before you know it, he's knocking on your bedroom door for a consolation shag. When two flatmates start going out together, it usually causes some friction in the house, leaving the others feeling like intruders. This doesn’t compare, however, to the seismic eruptions should the couple break up.
Another particularly annoying syndrome of living with gay men is the perma-locked
bathroom, leading to psychosis on Saturday nights, with every queen in the
house banging down the door. Madonna blares non-stop, you never know who or
what will get dragged back from a club, someone is always nicking your clothes
and you can never get any work done. God only knows how many student careers
have been marred by enforced cohabitation, but as usual the queers outdo everyone.
3. The Scene
Starting college often coincides with those first forays into the gay underworld. Like a tightly-coiled spring that’s just been released, the fresher explodes onto the scene, often contracting alcohol poisoning and several STDs after the first week. But soon, the neophyte is already weary of the identikit sixpacks and the soulless cruising for sex, and...
Oh please—chance would be a fine thing. Cork’s gay scene has a distinct lack of identikit sixpacks and we wouldn’t mind some soulless cruising if it involved someone in possession of one. If a young queer is going to become disillusioned round here, it’s because the scene is so small and rapidly becomes incestuous.
But Cork’s scene isn’t just a third-class meat market—there
are some nice venues. However, balancing study with unchecked hedonism can
prove difficult because of the strange designation of Sunday as ‘Gay
Night’. Having partied your ass off in The Savoy or The Half Moon, Monday
morning is a total write-off. We're thinking of asking the coordinators of
‘gay-heavy’ courses in the CIT to cancel all Monday morning classes...
4. Coming Out to your Class
However it came about, your classmates now know you are gay. Assuming they’re still talking to you, you can expect your relationship with them to change in these oh-so-subtle ways:
The Girls Each and every girl in your class wants to be your best friend. Girls you’ve barely spoken to previously want you to go clubbing with them. Your advice is constantly sought regarding matters of dating, fashion and style. When you’re not eating or sleeping, you’re shopping with Tara or gossiping with Kate. Your phone rings off the hook, a female voice greeting you first thing every morning and saying goodbye last thing at night. Your life is no longer your own—you’re approaching faghag meltdown.
The Boys Look at you a bit funny occasionally.