The weekend that was

It started innocently enough. It always does doesn't it. But in all fairness we did take a cab to Long Street so that I can avoid drunken driving. I shouldn't be surprised by how it turned out.

"Can you take a picture of us" was how it started. This was after we'd already had 3 drinks including tequila shots but we were still fairly well behaved. Foreign accents are always a conversation started and I guess that's why we ended up in conversation with 3 local guys who probably wanted to know where my housemate is from (US by the way). While uhming and ahhing a lot about heading to the Pink Strip in Green Point more drinks were bought by our new friends as well an American tourist who felt the need to buy us Jagermeisters for some reason or the other.

Wait. I'm leaving out some details like a new lesbian friend trying to score the straight guy and straight guy remarking what a terrible lesbian she makes. Sister Mary James promoting his her new show and freaking out Jagermeister American. Jagermeister American being pregnant, balancing a drink on his pregnant "belly" and giving birth somewhere in Cape to Cuba (the baby didn't make it he told us). None of this was strange to us at that point.

Eventually terrible lesbian convinces us to go to Beaulah's the lesbian club in Green Point and the only one in Cape Town. 7 of us pile into a cab. It's a Tazz. Yes, that's right. Seven. In a Tazz. The driver has to take back routes to avoid being stopped by the cops. I'm sitting in the front on the lap of one of the guys. The music was pumping and I briefly thought about dancing but that would've been highly inappropriate in the lap of a married man. Also, I couldn't really move being scrunched up against the ceiling. Some very unflattering pictures were taken that you won't be seeing on this blog but might pop up on Facebook some time. At some point I wondered exactly what the hell we're doing but didn't care too much since all the double whiskeys, tequilas and that one Jagermeister had entered my bloodstream by then. Eventually we reached Green Point and married guy opened the door while he assured me that he was not trying to touch my arse and I, quite gracefully, tumbled out of the cab, landing on my feet.

Terrible lesbian was adamant that Friday nights are the best nights at Beaulah's but when we got there it was quite empty. Very few lesbians in sight but my couchsurfer managed to attract immediate attention from the few that were there. Terrible lesbian got upset that straight guy wasn't into her. He has a valid reason though. He has a girlfriend and he's faithful. I stuck to the bar and chatted to the boys and my new housemate while others braved the dancefloor. I'll be damned if I can remember what we talked about though. The naughtiness scale was mentioned. Someone claimed to be a 10 but I contended that I am a 3.

I did brave the dancefloor but not for long and soon afterward found myself being swung around on the empty bit where people would've been dancing had there been more than 10 people present. This was despite my protests that I cannot dance. I'm not entirely sure how I'm was still able to stand at this point never mind handle being swung around.

Terrible lesbian had left with another guy but she wasn't to be the only one with that title for the evening. When alcohol and high heel thresholds were reached and just before we headed home I ended up snogging a guy. Yes, trust me to score a guy in a lesbian club. And thus, I was the butt of jokes on the cab ride home.

The hangovers the next day were severe and our plan to leave early for a trip to the winelands didn't quite materialise. We had delicious pizzas at Bohemia in Stellenbosch (next to the famous Mystic Boer) with lots of water to drink with our meal. I'm was so dehydrated that despite all the water I've had I didn't need to pee. We were too late to go to wine farms since most of them closed at 4pm but managed to find one still open. The wine tasting was unsuccessful since all of our bodies rebelled against the smell and taste of anything remotely alcoholic. It wasn't so much a drunken weekend as a drunken Friday night but the booze we drank was enough for an entire weekend.

The winelands were peaceful as always except for a flock of noisy ibises. We left, me a bottle of Quoin Rock Chardonnay richer, to have an alcohol and meat free braai at home.

Sunday was uneventful, my surfer left much to my disappointment and my housemate was working. I slept for most of the day and tidied up the mess that had accumulated over the week, later settling in to read and watch TV while I waited for my next surfer.

Something to blog about

Is it sad that one of your thoughts when the front of your car gets ripped off and you're then arrested for drunk driving*, is, "Well, at least I have something to blog about now".

After an epic Friday night, after passing out on my bed still wearing all my clothes and jewellery, I woke up still drunk and agreed that a spontaneous trip to wine country is a fantastic idea. It seemed the best way to avoid the coming hangover.

Gorgeous wine farms and wine, golf carts and one Reuben's lunch later* I found my car missing its front which was later loaded into the back.

Couchsurfer Lana with a headlight

I later got pulled over for driving with a damaged car. But it didn't help that the car smelled like a microbrewery because of spilled beer. So I was arrested and spent the next 3 or so hours at the police station, with 30 minutes or so in a dark, dank cell.** I was "nice" and they were overcrowded so I was released early. I didn't receive any horrible treatment besides being denied a lawyer and my own medical doctor*** but the condition of the cells were unbelievably horrible.****

*I didn't rip of the front of the car while driving drunk. In fact, the car was parked and I was buying chocolate when the front got ripped off. The driver who ripped off the front was kind enough to go and report it and get a case number. I've spoken to him and he assures me that all damage will be paid for.

**I'm not being melodramatic. None of the lights in the women's cells were working and it was damp due to the weather turning foul in the evening.

***To be discussed with my lawyer on Thursday.

****I might have to wrote a serious post, not in keeping with the lighthearted nature of this blog, about the horrendous conditions of jails and prisons.

Eaglevlei photos

These photos were taken at Eaglevlei in Stellenbosch. I went with a couchsurfer who requested to stay with me for 1 night. 3 nights later she's still staying with me and the weekend we go wine tasting in Stellenbosch. By the time we got to Eaglevlei we were well tipsy. Continuing tasting at Eaglevlei got my couchsurfer to the "drunken rolling around on grass" stage. Me, I decided to snap everything in sight. Not all the pictures were horrible, surprisingly. The ones below quite nicely convey the drunken bliss I felt. None of these have been retouched.