It began with a much dreaded photo shoot. The facing of the fellow DJ who had the honour of a steamy swimming pool make out session, on the eve of our year end function. The eve I lost my BlackBerry. A very VERY drunken eve. . . Hence my not appreciating that he went ahead and sat bang smack across the table from me; during the whose who in the Trans Africa Zoo meeting. Meeting ajourned. Now onto striking poses!
Snap! Flash! Snap!
The madness of people gathering
Clique-ing
Slam. . .
Right into the man.
A boy man at that. All of 25 years old.
#DeathByMe
Courteous Hug. Unexpected kiss on the cheek. Sweet and short.
It's over!
Now to get the fuck out of there.
Whew!
We that is the Stereo Dtox crew, moseyed on to greener pastures. Puff, puff pass pastures. Black Label all around as we settled ourselves at the Lamunu Hotel; nestled amidst the backdrop of a bustling Braamfontein. Never in the history of my Braamfontein escapades have I seen that many white folk fluttering in and out of the cafe's and alleys of good old Braam. Suddenly all the friggin Cafe's begin to make sense. This is who they were developed for in the first place. Light Bulb Moment!
That aside, we mingled. . .with white folk nogal. Canadian Patricia and Texas born Susan; whom Ade kept well entertained with talk of Africa and introducing them to The Fridge!! Then along came Samthing Soweto. It was all too YAY for words, till Sam called me a bad fan. Pity Thusi didn't surface before Gideon ushered them away. The Fridge posy cruised off to prepare for their performance at Dub Saved my life; while Mr Jones and I hopped on over to greener-er pastures.
Colonial Kitcheners!
The dark grungy textures of Kitcheners fed our photographic thirst. We would've soaked up every crevice if we could have, however my one armed companion failed as dismally as jittery me to take a successful pic of the fantastic shot opportunities with which our setting blessed us. Naturally, he casually asked equally casual surfer boy to shoot at whatever we wished him to aim.
Aim. Shoot. Aim. Shoot.
Surfer boy's equally pretty accomplice joined in on our newly formed collaborative acquaintanceship. Twas a serene dilly dallying of minds. Banter in abundance. . .Blunt too mind you.
Puff, Puff, Pass.
Like a well rolled joint, I passed myself on from the "aim shoot" escapade, over to the passionate debate in the colourful characters corner.
"Hi. Sorry to intrude, I couldn't help but overhear. Mind if I sit and listen silently?"
Talk about an enthusiastic reception. Before I knew it, I was the topic at hand. That's not what I signed up for though? Turns out that the Father to my right had an agenda of his own, and wasted no time asking "So where's your boyfriend?". I made the mistake of assuming what this mans intentions were, when meanwhile; Daddy Dearest was simply having a go at playing cupid. A look to my left and there was the suitor in question. I size him up favourably. Me likes what I see!
"You two should really get together again soon. You have lots to offer each other." Two guesses who had that to say? Daddy dearest of course. Cupid was all out in full force. "Obvious" is an understatement; and "Awkward" is oddly enough everything that that moment in time, wasn't. Son and I flirted subtly; while Father and I chatted fluidly.
"Thank you", I say softly expressing my appreciation for Black Label number who knows what. Suitor mentions knowing a shop where I can get my hands on some exciting African fabrics. Hmm, he heard my comment drinks ago about getting a dress made. Brownie points for this well versed man. His opinions excite me. Did I mention his being handsome in a non-offensive way?
"Take her number", insists Father.
"What's your number?" asks Son.
As they say, "Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find".
Goodbye's are said somewhere at this point. "You really made an impression on me", says cupid. I can't offer him anymore than a humble smile. I'm moved mind you. Even merely at the memory of his sentiments; I'm moved.
I'd saved Cupid's suitor son for last. Planted my arms gracefully around his torso and wished him well.
A comfortable parting. Gentle... Perhaps even too short?
The solemn moment was aptly shattered by shutter-bug Solomon and my main man Medicine. Merriment all around! A tequilla or 2; a drink or more. . .who knows. The buzz of evening was in full swing, and my tipsy was on the verge of drunk. A good time for home time; after a day which was indisputably a GRAND time!
"Hope the rest of your weekend was as delightful for you, as meeting the lot of you; was for me" , ended my reply to a text I received, Once Upon the morning after.
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