Nothing like solving South Africa’s problems over pints and shots on a Saturday afternoon from the balcony of The Jolly.
The Boy got two thumbs up (and a tequila) from one of the toughest judges, a best mate who engineers Secunda.
“Champs, I gotta tell you, I was nervous of what you’d bring over here. I was expecting a half-married Nigerian pub singer or the other type of airy fairy bullshite you usually go for. This guy is great. He is… normal. And you are just yourself around him”. (Was I not in front of the other men?)
I hope the boy’s mates where saying a similar thing about me following their (approval) meeting. I doubt it. Considering how boozed he & I were by later Saturday night. And how conservative & Pretorian they are. One triple whiskey of ours to one cup of ‘just boiling water, thanks’ to theirs.
I am finally understanding what my father has been carrying on about to his love-cynical children (the brothers of which are ripping the dear boy to shreds over email, in trying to assess from their corners of the world whether he is a “moocher” or “moochee”).
“You’ll understand when you get there”, my romantic father always used to say. And now - I am grinning & giggling and the love-pathetic-ness is oozing all around us. It is exhausting others and ridiculously silly to me. But, it is all so much fun.
By drunken Saturday sunset I was thoroughly entertained by saying, “Hello my boyfriend”. And then following the word up with a burst of girly laughter. This love stuff really does invert one’s personality.
As for the State-of-The-Nation pub-solutions. It’s all well and good for our dearest Elitist to prattle away every February, but surely what really matters is what happens for the other 364 days? After-Eight debates can analyse his words into the ground, but words are words. Apexes are words. And Dickens most certainly is words, and creatively written words at that. Not reality.
One hour of convincing is not what eases me.
What obvious progress me & my neighbours are living by the time I hear your hour of words a year later is what will ease me.