Left For Dead

Sbu and I at the IG office in Greenpoint,

On Friday I went to an Instant Grass party. It was at this new place called The Industry on Harrington Street. I later remembered that it used to be a titty bar called "The Cage" where pregnant strippers were not uncommon.

My friend, Adam, and I started at Neighbourhood for a couple draughts and a catch up on THESE WHORES!! The establishment was more full than last night's moon, so we didn't stay much longer than the duration of imbibing a cursory draught and tequila shot.

When we rocked up at The Industry, it was pretty empty. There was a boxing ring around the DJ booth which kind of reminded me of Vinyl Digz of winter last year. I heard that this particular party was organised by Leneave, but I couldn't blame him for the mediocre attendance because it was still very early. Adam and I resolved that we would leave if Raiko's set didn't bring a vibe that would involve women losing their inhibitions, morals and the occasional braid. The problem was, during his set, Adam's pops texted him to inform him he was dropping furniture off at his place at around midnight. He said he would go home, charge my phone, then come back. He never came back. Mind you, he still owed me two rounds.

Adam and I at Pop Bottles last year.

There I was, left for dead with nowhere to go. Shafted like a Capetonian in Joburg, I was determined to attempt a 'Spread', like Ashton Kutcher. Then I saw Mila. Mila is short for Milagre. He's from Mozambique and chews honeys for fun. He advises me that there are two girls who take the D seriously enough to fear it. I just wanted to sleep, so I winged for him. The girl's names were Vuyo and Sandra, and after some carefully placed negative compliments (by Mila, of course), they offered to take us to their humble abode. They lived in Woodstock, filled with Woolworths products. We drank and smoked until night and day became an item. I was wearing one of my worst pair of boxers, so I had no intention of showing them to anybody. I woke up from my drunken stupor at 1pm on Saturday, not knowing were I was. Sandra and Mila were nowhere to be seen. I woke Vuyo up to let me out but she wasn't impressed. I'm not sure why because I'm a good person, but she had short blonde hair and I couldn't be associated with her for much longer in fear of what her boyfriend may be capable of. I've met some that have priors, so I'm not delusional. By that time I knew my girlfriend was hacked with me, so I left immediately. I asked some winos where I could find a public telephone (I gave my phone to Adam the night before) to call Jade. I found out that she was at the Old Biscuit Mill enjoying The Neighbour Goods Market so I met up with her there. I relayed the events of the previous night told only to find out that Adam had already told her the concocted cover up story. She was cool with it but not keen to go to Vinyl Digz, which her friends had launched her into attending. I didn't really care, I just wanted the hair of the dog that bit me.

I get to the rooftop and it's hotter than a mahfucker (still not sure what's that suppsed to mean. How is a person who fornicates with your maternal parent, hot?). I smoke a few joints with Sakhile and chill with Jade and her mates. We commandeer a couch under some gazebo thing. It was so hot I had to take off my black tee. Now, I have only just recently become accustomed to showing my torso in public. I'm not saying we should all go to a nude camp and see what happens, but I'm not against the idea. My psychosomatic illness came from having an outie bellybutton and a surgical scar around it, but I digress. Looking around the rooftop party I met some more good peoples in Roxy and Vim. I started receiving lingering glares from the crowd, but I attributed that solely to the bundles of oestrogen around me. The heat, the beer and blunts started catching up on me worse than some trifector that Satan probably places on his mantle piece at his crib. Jade and I ducked out of there before things got way too messy for our budget.

On Sunday I woke up feeling more tender than a recently gangbanged vagina. Lying in the foetal position in bed, my girlfriend baked what would later be some delicious mini-Oreo cheesecakes. What a sport. Good weekend.

- Siyabawisa or @SeeYay for short.