There are several ways to have fun in Grahamstown.
If you’re one of those losers who don’t enjoy getting plastered on tequila and then shaking your scantily-clad tits off inside a sweaty club called Friar Tuck’s, with speakers blaring Justin Beiber and Rihanna – the ways to have fun do severely decrease.
I’m one of those losers. Rara (who has a kiff blog) and I had planned this awesome pizza night, however.
Step one – Chill at my place
Step two – Eat awesome pizza at Pirates, chill there for a while
Step three- GYT WYLD at Slipstream, Café Blanca, the general streets of mayhem….
So we reach Pirates, and the place is dead.
No worries though – we chow down an epic Vegetarian pizza (we love you guys) and chill.
Next stop – ice cream at Steers. It’s amazing what R5 can do for your spiritual re-invigoration.
Then, we bust a visit to Slipstream. The place is crawling with old men and the smell of old smoke. The dancefloor is a TS Eliot wasteland. In brief: laaaaame.
So we head back to the car. And here the shit starts. Scary Little Car Guard (aged: maximum 16) (licence to kill: most defs) approaches us. Now, we’d been away for literally ten minutes – I was not going to waste my money paying this dude – I parked about 8 different times last night – I’m not going to pay every single car guard, if I stop for such a short time. Furthermore, I highly doubt this kid could do anything if some real gangsters decided to rape and pillage my car.
So I say no and wave my hands to Scary Little Car Guard (SLCG) and start to drive off – he jumps in front of my bonnet, literally centimetres away from my headlights.
Now. Anyone who fucks with me while I’m trying to get out of a parking space is clearly underestimating my fear of parkings, cars, and getting arrested for murder.
I hooted, made ugly faces, nothing. This kid kept standing there. Eventually I reversed and managed to get by him – he grabbed onto my windscreen wiper and tried to yank it. Never have I driven off so fast before. Fucking. Scary. Child.
Hours later, we go back to Slipstream to meet up with friends. We’re driving down the road looking for parking when out jumps SLCG again – running alongside the car and waving, looking like a veritable crack-head. We eventually find a place to park, and there he pops up again, right outside my window. Looking ominous.
For all my party-happy mode, I managed to regain composure, and phoned Jesus Hitec Security. Seriously, I luff this company. The phone-answering lady was OSSUM, and sent a patrol car a minute later. While we waited in the car, we saw the scary kid get questioned by the Hitec Men of Power and Guns, they started putting him in their vehicle, and suddenly there was a big ass struggle.
Out on nowhere THE PO-PO ARRIVE. Rara and I were like OMGEEEEEEZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Suddenly there are two cars in the middle of the road, doors wide open, big men with arms the size of my thighs struggling with this thin, feisty kid who is clearly cooked out of his mind. Eventually they get him in the car and start driving off. Rara and I are like DUCK!! He might see us!
So we’re huddling in our seats, trembling like leaves, when we hear a car pull up beside us and hoot. The Hitec Men of Khaki Pant Awesomeness are showing us they’ve caught the kid – who is sitting in the back seat glaring at us. We raise our trembling hands to give them a thumbs up sign (which in Norse means MARRY ME I AM SHIT SCARED RIGHT NOW) and off they drive.
What. In. The. World.
Later on we also got shouted at by some guy who pretended to be a policemen but just had a fake ID card.
I nearly died, right there.
More and more annoying drama kept happening, the highlight of it all was probably when Rara and I got into my car and blasted Placebo so loud the sound distorted, and we drove around singing along to that sexy intersexual Brian Molko. SPECIAL NEEDS!!!
Yeeeah. That was a weird little Saturday night.
On the upside, I have made more gay friends 😀
I am really, really, really for real now convinced I’m going to die alone covered by cats. And gay friends 😛