So I am on a training course in Jhb again. Sitting here
in my little single serving bedroom and it got me thinking about the last
course I was on. September 2012 and a group of us from the construction
industry get together and learn about various management skills.
The training academy is up on Rivonia road. The first day
as per usual nobody really goes out of their comfort zone but by Thursday we
were all quite acclimatised to each other. We decided let’s all meet up at the
Slug and Lettuce and have a quite brewski and dinner there. Seems innocent
enough right? Not like we are in Melville or anything so the vibe should be
fairly chilled. Expecting a bunch of pasty middle aged white guys talking about
the JSE share index, sipping on some imported designer beer in a green douche
shaped bottle, popping the collar on their pink polo shirts and acting like a
bunch of nonce plush 50 Cent wannabees. Things shouldn’t get too out of hand.
Wrong…it did…and for one reason. It’s called a Snake
Bite. It is Cider mixed with Beer and then a shot of Lucifer’s demon possessed
semen – its purple in colour by the way (I’d also be pretty pissed off if I
came purple stuff). It’s not horribly strong however there is a tank ass load
of it served in those German style October fest jugs. So we boys get stuck into
the first one and as per usual there is the one brave soul who surges on and
throws the first down in a jiffy and then makes us all throw ours down to
maintain bro-code. Second snake bite and I start feeling that familiar
feeling…this stuff has horns. Order some food (by the way the ribs there are
awesome) .Three, four and five Snake Bites go down.
Fuelled by The Darks Lords man juice and covered in
barbeque sauce, the clock strikes 23:00. We all decide that we should be
sober(ish) for the full day of learning tomorrow and the best bet now is to
simply walk home. It’s a two block stumble to the hotel. Now, I don’t know how
we missed it on the way in, but on the way back it was like a Jedi force field.
It sucked us off our path and into the darkness. We fought the urge but we are mere
men – and men are no force against that of the Teasers Florescent Tubes. We
paid our dues to the coke machine sized man, I left my take way with the coat
lady with the beewbs popping out, and we made our way inside.
Now, I enjoy a good story but what happens Vegas stays in
Vegas… Or at least places that sort of look like Vegas. 02:00am. My wallet is
bone dry (no pun intended), my blood pressure resembles a day old balloon and I
am knackered. Properly tiered. We stumble on down the hill towards hotel-sanctuary
and low and behold – Its Brazil Portugal Melt night at the club. I can see the
hotel front door – its just there – but
I can also see the locals throwing down an awesome sexy Brazilian style line
dance and I couldn’t handle myself. Polystyrene take away container in my left
hand hoisted up I slid off the side walk and into that line dance and started giving it absolute
stick. BBQ juices flowing down my arm and some random latches onto me and
starts showing me the moves to which I return with some hip shaking and
snapping of the fingers with the Eh Pa’ and Ole’ and the works. I handed my
ribs to the barman, ordered 20 potency vodka’s, threw the come-on-in wave to
the guys outside and it got messy.
I must have shaken dat ass like a boss and drew the attention
of this fully dressed pointy shoe tapping, crochet sporting Ronaldinho look alike
that challenged me to a dance off. We cleared the floor I gave it stick.
Twists, spinning, tapping like Havana nights for down syndrome sufferers. Spurred on by bewildered spectators I pulled off my last move, threw a stumble to the bar, snatched my
ribs, banged in a few shooters and I’m off. I think I won because once we
finished off the dude came running up to me, grabbed my hand, spun me around
and said “Hey, so we had Chemistry back there right?”
I ran. Literally. I threw my ribs at the guy and legged
it.
Hmm, class in the morning is going to suck.
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