The bass echoes around me, the nightclub swallows me into its world of music and flashing lights. I am dancing right near the front of the stage, one hand held over my head waving to the DJ for playing my favourite song.

Then it's like a church choir erupting, 'Halleluiah!' Our eyes meet. I look quickly away. Not wanting to seem obvious. The music is no longer a focus, my body keeps swaying, everything around me has become a blur of moving colours. My eyesight is set on one thing. Was he looking at me?

I take a swift, subtle glance around my surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary. With my head down, pretending to dance, I raise my eyes just a little. Ding, Ding, Ding, Score! He's still staring. Everyone knows there are steps one must follow in the catching of another's eye. I take another glance, not too obvious but just enough to catch his attention. Eyes meet just briefly and as he continues staring I'm gliding my eyes across the rest of the dancing crowd. Be available but don't look available, maybe just a tad of both.

The first glance has been exchanged. I needn't be paranoid that he's straight and going to punch me.

This brings you to the second glance. Just to make sure. Both sets of eyes meet, I give a faint smile and then look away a little embarrassed, or am I blushing? I look around once more at my immediate environment to clarify he's not checking someone else out. The evidence is in my favour.

Now I'm at the third glance stage. This is where the game continues to see who makes the first move. The fourth glance comes, I'm dancing to the music trying to take my mind off the fact that I don't have the balls to go up and introduce myself. Our eyes meet, yet again. We both smile and continue to dance, slowly edging towards each other.

By now I'm sure he is definitely gay. This is the decider. Confidence appears from nowhere. I begin to walk towards him.

Now the depressing part. I have taken too long to make the move. Most times they leave the club, or I read the signs wrong, or someone else has wormed their way into the picture.

In this particular case, it's the latter. My glory is torn to shreds in seconds. I watch, surprised, while he walks right past to a guy nearby and instantly erupts into an epic game of tonsil hockey. The night has evolved into the infamous "what if” scenario.

So I do the only thing I can do in a situation like this. I dance.

It's not long before I hear another faint 'Hallelujah' growing over the music. I grin as the game of glance begins once more.

The point I tried to explain to my mate, using my own experience, is you can spend the whole night playing the game, but it’s pointless if you can't back it up with the confidence.

So guys out there take a chance, give someone the glance and see how it goes.

- QIT

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