Gay Prince is the randily handsome fellow who prances through my workplace, giving me romantic whiplash from time to time.
The first time I met him, I thought he was gay (mainly because he calls everyone darling). Turns out, ’twas a faulty gaydar reading; but it’s my theory that a man calls a woman darling when he’s booby bound in the singular (single woman, not boob), not in the plural.
Then, one day, he flashed his pearly whites in a drive-by flirting. They dazzled like the teeth of Disney’s Prince Charming (bing!) and my metaphoric head whipped back so quick, I was wearing a metaphoric neck brace for a metafucken week. A crush was born.
Since then, we’ve been doin’ the rain dance of lurve. Like a dodgy radio signal, he comes in and out with the promise of guest spots and prize giveaways.
Also known as: GP, Metro Prince and Fey Prince.