HIGH-FIVE TO THE NEW YEAER
So, i saw this car parked outside my home in Cape Town on New Year’s day 2012. I started imagining what kind of craziness happened the night before that led to this hand print; liquid courage flowing with no end in sight, and there is always that one friend who wants one more with you and you alone. Electronic music bumping from car to club and back again, maybe even a few drinks at the beach with the group of girls who were as eager to throw caution to the wind (…girls who would later be traded in for drunker “models”).
Then there is that one friend, lets call him Simon, who probably just got dumped this holiday after a long and serious relationship. Depressing everybody with his stories of “the good times”; angry at the world but didn’t know what to do about it. This is the guy that needed serious convincing from his buddies to even go out that night. I’m sure they dangled promises of it being the best night he would ever have, with girls of the widest variety and oceans of alcohol to help him get over “that bitch” and under a new one. So after the efforts of his friends he picked himself up and uttered the words that would eventually bite him in the ass,
“fuck it! Lets go”.
It probably started out great, with testosterone pumping hard, the party playlist getting every one excited, heads sticking out of car windows; “woooohoooo!!”. OH YES!! Then it was one shot… two shots… three shots… more!! I bet the women could smell the desperation seeping through Simon’s cologne and made it a point to stay clear.
(No woman wants a desperate man Simon.)
And just when he decides that he was done with this whole charade, he takes out his phone; still displaying a picture of him and his ex-girlfriend out on a picnic date on their third anniversary. After staring at the picture with intense emotional confusion and getting angry at the sight of her happy face, he turned to the bar thinking “fuck it, lets party”; only to spot his ex… with the new guy.
Now, if Simon was an iPhone 4 this new guy was the iPhone 4 S with all the extras!! What made it even worse was that she looked Simon dead in the eye and didn’t even flinch as she grabbed the new guy’s ass and planting a fat kiss on his bronze neck, never breaking eye contact.
I’m sure the evening was a blur for Simon after that; shades of different coloured drinks, clubs and crazy New Year’s outfits passed him as he stumbled down the road to the next spot. His friends probably found him just as he was about to lay down in the street out of a drunken surrender; got him to his feet and managed to get him in the car. At some point during all of this madness, Simon’s alcohol threshold is pushed too far.
“Stop the car!”, Simon yelped,
the tipsy drivers ears rang as he brought the car to a screeching halt. Stumbling hastily, Simon made his way to the back of the car, planting hind just above the petrol tank, holding himself up while he regurgitated bad decisions, unfortunate happenstance and copious amounts of liquid amnesia.
Call me Dizzle