Thursday, 23 October 2008

The 21 000 Rand Lesbian

A while back I paid 21 000 Rand (about $3 000) to have a beer with a lesbian. During that weekend, I was in a near plane crash, climbed Table Mountain, lost all my cash for contraband I  didn’t want, slept on the floor of an empty house, and worst of all was marooned in a sea of advertising people with egos bigger than Mussolini.

I’m not going to put the rest in a linear narrative, but here are some fragments:

Heaven in a Tank Top
I met her on a long weekend in a remote village in the Western Cape. Short spiky hair, flinty blue eyes and a naughty smile. She looked like Ladytron sounds: hard digital-sinewed metallic beats, skyscraper vertigo, and blurring motorcycle speed. Long legs and sinewy, strong arms carved out of wood. We agreed to meet up in Cape Town some time.

A R9 000 Excuse to Meet Up
I called her weeks later, and blurted that I was coming to Cape Town. “What for?” she asked. “The…uh… (I racked my brain for a reason)… Design Indaba! That’s it! The Design Indaba!” I shrieked like a game show contestant. I was making a silly amount of money at the time, so the R9k for flights, car, hotel and seminar didn’t seem too bad.

Emergency Landing
One minute out of Joburg, a very bad buzzing noise started, so loud it made my fillings ache. A sound of screeching of stripping gears and a metallic burning smell enveloped the cabin. The plane floundered in the air like a drowning swimmer. We swung round and landed with a jaw-jarring thump. I cracked three teeth which later paid for half my dentist’s daughter’s varsity tuition. The plane barrelled down the runway, flanked by red flashing fire engines. We stopped, got out, and I fell to my knees on terra firma and kissed the tarmac like the Pope.

Another flight, another plane, I landed in Cape Town. Called Lesbian, left message.

Lots of shit happened, including: snafu hotel booking that left me sleeping on floor of empty “for sale” house; lending Guy R1 000 for a deal which derailed and almost got him arrested; sneaking out of shit seminar sardined with Prada-clad advertising wankers, to climb the mountain; called the Lesbian, left a message; dined at most expensive restaurant in Southern Hemisphere, it would seem; called the Lesbian, still no reply.

Namibia, Apparently
Last day in town. Call Lesbian. Finally get through! She’s in… Namibia, but promises to meet up next time I'm in Cape Town. 

Fuck that.


Reya Mellicker said...

Damn it. You're a genius!

Chimera said...

I believe your last line would be tricky when applied to a lesbian! What an incredible story...the plane..the of my worst fears (that and dentists and you managed both!)
Smashing post!
T x

Janelle said...

oh delighted to finally land in fush and chips, being initially a rhodes fan. and nope. am definitely not ex rhodes, despite my ways with drugs and alcohol. caused, with all due respects, by a chain of unfortunate events and genetics. i wanted to go to rhodes, but my mother wasn;t having any of it. too many drugs, were her words...LOVE this blog. and LOVE the other one too. xxx janelle

Janelle said...

oh whoops. sorry. what on earth did i do? twice? obviously. sorry. well. it will up your comment rating....hah.x

fush and chips said...

Thanks so much, I'm thrilled by your enthusiasm for the blog. I really enjoy writing it, and it's great when other people like it too.

Joanne said...

Good god Fush and Chips - you are a life saver as I sit in decrepit office in dodgy former colony (but got to give it to the brits I am afraid when it comes to former colonies they are somehow a little more organised - no wander the chinks pursuing them with the determination of a dog on viagra) with dodgier it connection (cost saving!)waiting for an excuse to hit me out of the grey sky as to why I cannot make it to (yawn) another work dinner where there is no booze and no meat (for religious reasons)I will lay my dead granny's life on it that it is all for appearances and they would rather I did come up with the period pain excuse....