One of My best friends, Forge, returned
home from exile home after spending a year and three months doing a graduate development program at Bloemfontein, actually he was transfered back to Johannesburg against his will, he didn’t want to let go of the novelty of being treated like a superstar Just because there’s a GP in his car’s number plates.
My Beer loving crew decided to throw a club tour this past Friday in honour of his return, I’m lying, I’ve known those d’bags since ’04 and they couldn’t give two farts if forge was returning home or not, they just wanted a reason to get their drink on.
I wasn’t looking forward to it, I’m not really a club person. Regardless of what people tell you, the main reason people go to clubs is to pick up a partner to have drunken sex with, everybody’s inhibitions are way down and all a guy has to do to pick up a chick is to show his car keys, all a girl has to do is dance and since I don’t roll like that, the prospect of spending overpriced booze in a stuffy, loud and crowded room doesn’t appeal to me at all, I’m a claustrophobic hermit.
At any rate, after downing a few beers for the road, we headed to a pub called “Disoufeng” in Dobsonville, we spent about twenty minutes there, we decided to ditch the place when it became apparent that the place is too uptight for us. We then drove to Soweto’s only club worth a crap, the Oz pub better known as Ozone. When we got there cops were doing what they do best, harassing people for public drinking at an entrance of a bloody club. I was surprised that the bouncers didn’t harass me, seeing that I was dressed like a Bum (With swag, natch), we were allowed entry hustle-free even though the dress code is supposed to be “Strictly Smart casual” roffle.
The club was still empty, seeing that it was still 10PM but it soon got packed to the rafters when the clock struck twelve. I noticed a camera crew, Selimathunzi’s presenter and those two guys who are taking over SA’s film industry, Rapulana Seiphemo and Kenneth (….. I seem to have forgotten his Surname), and I wondered what the hell was going on here? It turned out, some guys from a reality show I’m not familiar with, class act, were there. On the decks was DJ Dinno Bravo and some guy who did a mean house set later when the club was about to close down.
During the night, some guy from a website called Sowetolive dot com, asked to take a picture of us and it ended up being uploaded on the site, now a picture of me looking like a homeless person exists on the interwebs, for posterity. damn. All in all, we had a decent time, the only thing that pissed me off was the bouncer constantly harassing me asking me to take my beanie off, I’ve been locked up in my cabin, I haven’t had time to take care of my looks and my hair looked like it could snuggle a few explosives at an airport in the United States. Thank goodness I was still wearing my beanie when that guy asked to take a picture of us. Phew!