Nine fifteen pm last night I hear a gun shot while lying on my couch. Nothing too unusual in this city. It’s in the distance.
A few minutes later, another shot. Close enough this time to be sure it’s not a backfiring car. Definitely a gun shot.
Soon after that a third, fourth, fifth shot. Fcking loud and Fcking close. The people must be running up my own street.
Shots six and seven are a little higher up. A little further away. Far enough away for me to lift my body from its crouched position under the table.
What the hell!?!?!?! I do not recall my flat be magically transported to Hillbrow while I slept yesterday away.
Five minutes or so after the last shot I am willing to glance through a window to see what’s going on. Neighbours are doing the same. One guy is crouched behind a tree very nervously looking up & down the street. A while after that I am willing to brave standing on the landing outside watching the street below, trying to figure anything out. Everyone starts to appear on the road, moving slowly and cautiously at first, then becoming more jovial. A car appears. More people are out and about. More cars. And all is back to normal.
I go back to my couch to watch the thriller, FEAR. Man, Hollywood should place a camera in my apartment block these days.
Purchased mace on Friday. Got home, alone, at 3am that night to an open broken gate. Luckily I have a thumb-sized tear gas canister now to spray into any dumb-ass mugger’s eyes before smacking him with one of my high heels I’d have in hand.
Otherwise, good weekend. Friday night was spent cocktail testing all of Melville's 7th Ave bars' cocktails. I can't make up my mind who has the best. Will just have to retest again another time. And people watching. In gay guy's terms this = Perving, while me and my darling gay friend try to establish if the guy's sexual orientation.
Summer’s definitely here. You know this when everyone at the party ends up in the pool by 11pm, fully clothed. And you then spend a few more hours dancing around crazily at the party in only a towel & underwear.
You also know summer has arrived when you spend all of Saturday braai-hoping.
Revisiting the scene of last weekend’s debauchery (The Colony) helped in establishing some lost parts of last weekend. Like being the 3rd last person to leave the Colony actually involving having some opportunist guy giving me a foot massage while our mutual friend called Dial-A-Bed to tell them he needed a bed. Please could they deliver it immediately to The Colony Shopping Centre, Craighall.
Then bumping into a guy – “Hey! I know you! Aren’t you the guy I met at Carfax!?”.
“No, Champs. We established this last Saturday”.
“We did? Who are you then? Oh, you’re Mark!”
"No. I’m ‘so-and-so’”.
“Hmmm. No, no, not ringing any bells. But I know you feel like buying me a tequila”.
”Sure. Why not. I bought you enough last weekend”.
Saturday night ended off at Catz, drinking 1 litre of sangria and staring at a pizza with a lot of mince and phoning friends.
Some things are never meant to change.