Workers' Day

Hmmm, been a rather interesting week...to say the least. Anyway I worked at the striped cat club last night (was a tad late because of the rugby traffic)and geez louise it is wierd being sober when everyone else is tanked. It was fun though. Danced in the doorway, chatted to the bouncers and a few randoms and all was well until the end when some very drunk looking individual enquired as to whether he could "dra my koertbroek" inside. I told him his chances were slim and started to walk off when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards him saying "I were talking to you!" How i wished Puff had been there. Freak show! I hope John, the seven foot doorman, kicked his ass but I didn't stick around to find out. I found Puffin in a dingy bar ripping up the dance floor and dragged him to the safety of the country club down the road. Or so I thought. Friday nights at this particular establishment are what Puff calls "the old person disco". And they were giving it horns. As we made our way towards the bar some middle aged male crashed into us while attempting the funky chicken. I was so not in the mood. We eventually were served and informed that it was cash only. Good grief. What has a girl got to do to get a drink in this town?! We went all the way back to the Engen, queued for the ATM behind three girls who were wearing so much make-up they looked like prostitutes and then decided we needed cigarettes too. Puff was getting bored and decided to test his sales skills on a very stoned "James Blunt". He began to try and convince said individual that he needed a box of Lindt but his humour was completely lost on JB who muttered "fuck off" and left. Fun guy. Back to Kelvin. The bar was closing as we got inside and I went into panick mode, "I NEED a glass of wine!" Puff being a man with a plan told me not to worry and left me outside puffing moodily. Some girl even asked if I was ok. Puff returned with a bottle and two glasses. That's why I love him. I was about to start unwinding when I spotted the ex. Oh no. I insisted we leave to avoid any awkardness but the ex obviously had the same plan as he almost ran us over in his haste to leave and his brunette lady friend yelled something out the window as they sped off. But we managed to smuggle some beverages out in my bag so it was all good.
Today we woke up early to go to the bank to see if Puff's foreign currency had finally got here (I've been fighting with my bank for 2 weeks about it)and arrived in front of the ABSA branch to find a big notice proclaiming that "This branch is closed for the public holiday." Huh. What holiday? I thought of the date. Oh gawd. I called the 24 number on the ATM and the poor girl on the switchboard informed me that all ABSA branches are closed on worker's day. I screeched,"this country is a fuck up!" and hung up. Puff just shrugged. To calm down we indulged in some retail therapy which included skinny jeans that Puff felt were not up to European standards. Shame. I consoled him with, "You are in Africa baybee". After that we even did grocery shopping. Like grown ups do. Ma would be so proud. Now I'm writing and Puff is washing up post bacon and banana roll-making. Life is good. I just forget sometimes.
Happy Workers' Day y'all!
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