Fridae

Cruising is the sine qua non of the gay male. We all do it. And if we don't, we're not really gay. We are the only ones who "cruise" with sexual intentions.

When we hear a man say he went "cruising" last night, we know he is one of us, unless of course he is wearing a baseball cap backwards and driving a flashy soft-top. He has uttered the magic word. He may enter the inner circle. But even if a particular gay man screws up his nose when asked if he cruises, just watch him in action in a public space where there are other men. It may be no more than a microsecond of eye contact, but he has his own compunction to cruise.

Lesbians and straights just don't do it. They look on in amazement on wintry night as hundreds of men roam public spaces looking for other men to have a sexual experience with. Who else would brave the elements when everyone else is at home watching their favourite sitcom or game show?

Every night, the undergrowth of parks is alive with marauders. All day railway stations are populated by people who are obviously not travelling any further than the public lavatory. Seaside esplanades throng after dark with single men on the prowl. The sexual urge is simply irresistible.

And all of us know that no matter how oppressive the authorities are at government and local level, there is always a cruising ground to be found.

Even in Asia's more dictatorial semi-democracies and autocracies, you will be able to get your cock sucked outdoors somewhere. But are the rules different? Do cruising styles vary from west to east? The answer is a resounding yes!

The major difference is the obviousness of the cruise. I was weaned on public parks in Ireland and seaside shrubberies in England. If a man liked you there, he simply stopped in his tracks and watched you move by. If you liked him you returned the look either instantly if you are a complete slut, or after a discrete interval after you have passed. Look back briefly, and he'll still be looking. Now begins the dance.

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Short of clapping flamenco hands and stomping toreador feet, you'll circle each other in an open display of lust and sexual interest before finding a suitable place to fornicate.

If you're the possessive and selfish type, you'll try and drag him into a dark nook or thick undergrowth; if you both like the thrill of being watched, it'll be a more public place you choose, like on a bench under the streetlight.

So my experiences of cruising and being cruised, as well as watching others at it, tell me that the negotiations are rapid in the West. There is a general acceptance that the reason you are there is for sex, and that you had better get on with it. And the sex is for the sake of sex. So hanging around for a few hours to have it off with as many people as you can is de rigeur. You may even get a smile and break the ice with another benevolent cruiser who spots you for the umpteenth time in a two-hour period. "Still here?" he'll ask with a raised eyebrow and a smile, and off you'll go behind the boats, or trees, or slides and swings.

Cruising in the East is a much more involved process. Judgments, disapproval, semi-interest, open criticism and massive denial are all dumped in this witch's brew.

In some cultures such as Japan for example, you are instantly infested with AIDS because you are white or black.

People will run screaming silently from you if you dare approach. And you must approach as nobody wants to be seen approaching you, despite the fact the others cruising are total strangers. And those that cannot overcome their curiosity towards the foreign devil and follow you behind that tree may decide halfway through the sexual activity that they are being just too bad and will flee into the night pulling their pants up from their ankles as they stumble off.

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On my first few visits to Asia, I watched incredulously as the cruising populace would do its utmost to prove to all the others cruising that they weren't actually there cruising. There are varying techniques: the rapid march up and down, darting in and out of dark spaces, making circuits of the cruising area as if the individual is a government inspector sent to review the quality of the facilities - these guys never hang around long enough to catch your eye, but always turn up when you are getting down to it with someone else.

There's also the dog-walker without the dog - these guys stroll up and down incessantly as if they are just taking the air and will pause and look at you, but seem startled if you respond; the nerd with accessory - he will have a phone, a radio, a portable TV, a pad and pencil or some other weird accoutrement to justify his presence; and the gaggle of snooty queens - they are the worst, sneering together in an evil clutch of mephitic smoke at the busiest part of the cruising area, getting in the way and ostentatiously not taking part in the activities.

Then there's the terminally shy - so sure that he wants something to happen, but not really sure what it is; and finally, there's the look-at-me Muscle Mary - confident that you want him, but after your third attempt to get his attention, you'll get bored and move on to someone else and he'll slope off home alone with heavy sacks (I like to think�).

Like Chinese characters, the sexual negotiations are obscure to the outsider, but make sense to the locals. People somehow manage to couple off despite the painful shyness and lip-curling attitude. Of course I blame Confucius, but now that I feel I understand Asians better, it doesn't make my cruising any more successful. I guess I should be grateful I settled down and don't go cruising any more. It's just too exhausting!