Good grief. I um...don't have words about this weekend. Seriously. It was completely out of character and manic. In fact even that description is tame.
I feel exhausted.
Friday night was um... Oh God. Where to start. So it all started off rather lovely...we went to a divine restaurant and had dinner and cocktails, like civilised human beings. Afterwards, we hit FTV Cedar. It was all lovely until coffee tequila reared it's ugly head. Oh. My. God.
It went completely pear shaped from there. Blondie 2 decided it would be "fun" to waterski though the fountain. As you do. "Weirdly" enough, she ended up falling on her ass and ended up at Olivedale Clinic.
She is now in a sling and it's not broken, but I personally think she needs a second opinion.
Anyway...I wasn't in my car (this NEVER ends well - at the time it makes sense to go in one car but at the end of the evening, I always curse that decision because I can't leave when I'm ready...I always say that I'll never do that again and what happens? It happens again.) so I couldn't even be at the hospital for her.
We were all supposed to go to the Meat Market called Billy the B.U.M.S.
I really am not a huge fan of this place.
Seriously. Men are just revolting. I know I shouldn't be surprised considering that I was at BB's but still....c'mon.
Is there some sort of perception that because it's Fourways/Sandton, all girls are gold diggers and impressed with your fancy schmancy car and monthly salary?
Right, so there I am sitting at a table (tired from dancing, you see?) when this guy comes up to Sugar and I.
"Hey there. I earn R30 000 a month, you girls should respect me."
He repeats this with extra emphasis on the "should".
"Oh. My. God. I just have to have your babies now! You must be an amazing man." I swooned.
He flashes a grin and decides that my sarcasm is a green light for him to sidle up next to me.
His friend then joins us almost immediately and starts talking about his SLK Mercedes.
Later on, after a few more jaegerbombs and room spins I had this guy leer at me, burn me with a cigarette from his actions and try and pull in for a kiss. I turned my head and pushed him away. He then couldn't understand why I was the one being rude.
Oh yes. Baby oh baby. Please can I have some drunk, disgusting, sweaty man leer at me for a kiss.
I mean, after all... I don't even know what your salary is.
Sugar and I were feeling horribly drunk and I still had to fetch my car. So.
This wasn't embarrassing at all.
I had to call my parents at...wait for it....5am. Now. I love the fact that I let my hair down, but um. 5am?
That is NOT a Bondie thing to do. It really is completely out of character. 3am is doable every once in a while (seriously...every ONCE in a while) but 5am AND calling my folks. If I am going to do a big night, that's all fine by me but without the folks knowing about it.
It gave a whole new meaning to drunk dialling.
So. My dad and my sister came to collect me and then we went to fetch my car (my sister drove it home for me.)
Fabulous. It was terribly sweet but if I could have avoided that I would have.
I slept the entire day, felt very sorry for myself and then drove through to fetch Blondie 2 who was going to be sleeping at me so that we could get an early start on Sunday.
It was hilarious though considering that we all take having two hands for granted. I had to cut her burger into four so that she could pick it up with her one hand and eat it and I had to help her with her bra. No weird thoughts boys.
Sunday was Moving Day. It was weird going through all my things and packing them into boxes. My dad had hired a trailer for all my furniture and Sugar, Blondie 2 and I went through cupboards, drawers and every room figuring out what was mine, what I was keeping and what I was chucking.
I couldn't have done it without them and we made it "fun" by pretending we were on The Style Network's "Clean House" show. We would actually make a good team and I reckon it would be a good TV show! The SA Version! Hahaha!!
Afterwards, we decided we needed a drink. A stiff one. We went to Lonehill Capello's. It was pretty dead, which was suprising considering it was the Sunday Hang Out once upon a time!
These two boys came to us and asked us if the two empty chairs were available. The way they asked it, was as if they needed the chairs to move to a table they were sitting at. As soon as I said, "Not at all" they sat down. Um. OK.
They spent the time just complimenting us on our shoes, hair and dresses.
I found the humour in the fact that on Friday night I had been hit on by revolting men and on Sunday night I was being "hit on" by Gay Boys.