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Sadly, after the parade, there were reports on Twitter that the cheering stopped as the bisexual group walked past.As a bisexual man, I know the reality of bi invisibility all too well.Whilst many groups celebrated Pride this year with big support and high visibility, bisexuals had to fight hard just to get a spot on the London Pride Parade with organisers putting the inclusion of big businesses such as Skittles ahead of ensuring all subgroups of the LGBTQ community were represented.Organisers blamed bisexual groups for not applying before the deadline (which closed early) rather than taking the responsibility to ensure bisexuals were represented at their event.I even feel duty bound to point out here I have my steak “medium”, to avoid the inevitable postbag from steak bores who will walk over hot coals – that their steak will barely touch because they are real men (always men sorry) who eat their steak rare – to tell me how wrong I am.Once, on hearing a guy say he “couldn’t understand why someone would have their steak any other way than rare”, I decided to bite.The consensus among my friends seems to be that dating in the modern era is easily the worst thing in the world.

I’ve always known that, aside from being black, my feminine, flowing, chest-length locks were the greatest deterrent to my own success, which is why I logged off altogether for a while.Every time I’m within 10 feet of a noodle, it’s the same. Before Google, I remember reading a guide in a magazine on how to hold chopsticks. I remember the diagram on the yellowing pages, with a tea stain just off to the right, which showed a cartoon finger deftly holding a set, with a small arrow to show the movement you could make. I had a speech about my use of a fork prepared – which wasn’t hard as they almost always said the same thing. I made a valiant effort with each but sadly it just didn’t work out. “You’re disrespecting the culture.” I am not at a formal banquet with the Vietnamese president, I’m on a date in Viet Hoa sharing a summer roll with what appears to be the official UK representative for the boring halitosis contest.That creeping anxiety in anticipation of the inevitable; the resentful side-eye to the two slender wooden oppressors at my hand. ” If this were a saloon bar in the wild west, the piano player would stop abruptly and everyone would turn to face me. Every time, years later, as a grown adult, when I found chopsticks in my hand, I would remember that diagram. “It’s an insult to the food/chef/restaurant to eat it with a fork.” The food can’t talk, the chef can’t see, the restaurant cares only that I pay and don’t phone up tomorrow complaining of food poisoning. “It’s very typically Western to refuse to learn how to use them.” I didn’t refuse, I just can’t. Whether I plunge a fork or a chopstick into my food is irrelevant, and the whole point of eating is you enjoy your food and you’re having a nice time, not awkwardly spearing prawns and taking three hours to trap a noodle because it looks better. It’s part of the trend for fetishising food and the way we prepare and eat it.I’ve been asked to stop kissing my girlfriend in gay bars on several occasions.From the outside my girlfriend and I kissing is seen as 'straight' therefore we are seen as invading gay people’s safe space It’s no surprise that so few bisexual men are out of the closet.

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