Can you imagine being the gentlemen of the discreet gentlemen’s club who are trying so hard to flirt with this very odd man who couldn’t be more enthusiastic about dance lessons and always brings the best wine, and you get nowhere, absolutely nowhere with him to the point where you’re all wondering if he’s one of Those Men who are so absolutely dense to subtext that he believes this really is just a discreet gentlemen’s club for gentlemen to be discreet about nothing more than billiards and drinking*, and then one day the very odd man comes in with another very odd man in all black and sunglasses, who walks so much from the hips that he looks like he’s about to tip over and moves his arms like he isn’t fully certain what they’re supposed to be doing but he’s having a good time with them, and then all the discreet gentlemen look at each other with sudden realization, because ah. Yes. The very odd man is already taken. By this other very odd man. Alright everyone, let’s line up for the gavotte.
*to reference a different Terry Pratchett work, the gay club equivalent of the men who turn up to the Seamstresses Guild in hopes of getting their socks darned, and for whom that is absolutely not innuendo for anything