Whilst trawling the London Gay Bars I often bumped into Francis Bacon. We were on nodding terms.
Last time I saw him was in an upstairs bar in Rupert Street, it used to be the A&B but had changed hands by this time - can't remember the new name. I was accompanied by a delightful piece of rough, a guy I was together with for a couple of year. Bacon pestered us every time, inviting us around to his studio, wanting to paint my partner.
We refused, my partner thought him creepy
Guess whose kicking themselves now!

His burglar became his lover - I think that's delightful! My dear friend Gaia on the corner was a close friend of Bacon's and, when he died, gave me his paint palette which I still have somewhere.