Chapter 4 Party Suid Afrikaans
Door: Sarajan Graanoogst
Blijf op de hoogte en volg Sarajan
10 November 2014 | Zuid-Afrika, Bloemfontein
Tonight the girls (minus Taru) decided to go out. I planned a quiet evening in with some reading, some writing and some music listening. Celine however changed my mind and so I joined for a party in the Suid Afrikaanse style. The girls had already drunk a few beers before we left, whilst I had only one, and went off to an interesting and in ways also funny night.
It seems it was early when we arrived, or so Lisette, our driver and Zanchieta’s manager, told us. There weren’t as many as there would be on a normal busy night, according to her. Normally, she said, the parking place would be filled up eventually. After we finished our beer we stepped out and approached the club for a night I’ll not easily forget.
The first thing I noticed whilst walking through the doors was the fact that everyone was dancing in couples to lively, I assume, Suid Afrikaanse music. It was like ballroom dancing and we immediately felt out of place.
So after a shot we just grooved on the music in our group our own way before the girls were beginning to attract the attention of random Suid Afrikaanse boys. Celine kept declining, but Sirin and Emma both danced with some boy. As the night progressed they, and by extension me, were even offered drinks. After some drinks Emma started to get me to ask girls to dance and I thought sure, why not. So I started to scan the walls looking for girls that were without a partner and started asking around.
Believe it or not I didn’t get a single yes. For some reason Emma wanted me to get out there. She even went as far as asking one of her admirers to find me a “date”. I guess he was hoping to get with her and was owed a few favours by a girl, because a few minutes later a girl approached me for a dance. Apparently I wasn’t good enough though. She left in about 15 seconds. All this got me thinking. “Are they simply not interested, not polite enough to do one dance or were they simply against dancing with a coloured guy?” It kind of pissed me off. I mean wouldn’t it frustrate you? You’re being nice, kind, gentleman like only to have every door slammed in your face. Eventually I got that f*** it attitude and made the dance floor unsafe with my freestyling.
The girls had quite a few drinks more than I did and at a certain point Celine and Emma started urging Sirin to, and I quote, “f the cute bartender”, who wasn’t that good looking in my opinion. And if it wasn’t for my maneuvering, our scheduled pick up at 1.00 and the guy’s shift ending at 3.00 she probably would have. She did make out though. So I turned out to be the chaperone trying to prevent the girls from making stupid mistakes while they were intoxicated.
There isn’t much else to tell otherwise, though. We were picked up at 1.00. Celine slept on my shoulder after exclaiming that Sirin should have f*d the guy. She gave me a kiss on the cheek as a thank you when we arrived and after some attempts to call the bartender (yeah, Sirin got a number) we all went to sleep. Sirin and Celine were so drunk that the next day’s hangover would be a bitch. I was compared to them very modest although looking back I probably drank more than I should have.
It seems it was early when we arrived, or so Lisette, our driver and Zanchieta’s manager, told us. There weren’t as many as there would be on a normal busy night, according to her. Normally, she said, the parking place would be filled up eventually. After we finished our beer we stepped out and approached the club for a night I’ll not easily forget.
The first thing I noticed whilst walking through the doors was the fact that everyone was dancing in couples to lively, I assume, Suid Afrikaanse music. It was like ballroom dancing and we immediately felt out of place.
So after a shot we just grooved on the music in our group our own way before the girls were beginning to attract the attention of random Suid Afrikaanse boys. Celine kept declining, but Sirin and Emma both danced with some boy. As the night progressed they, and by extension me, were even offered drinks. After some drinks Emma started to get me to ask girls to dance and I thought sure, why not. So I started to scan the walls looking for girls that were without a partner and started asking around.
Believe it or not I didn’t get a single yes. For some reason Emma wanted me to get out there. She even went as far as asking one of her admirers to find me a “date”. I guess he was hoping to get with her and was owed a few favours by a girl, because a few minutes later a girl approached me for a dance. Apparently I wasn’t good enough though. She left in about 15 seconds. All this got me thinking. “Are they simply not interested, not polite enough to do one dance or were they simply against dancing with a coloured guy?” It kind of pissed me off. I mean wouldn’t it frustrate you? You’re being nice, kind, gentleman like only to have every door slammed in your face. Eventually I got that f*** it attitude and made the dance floor unsafe with my freestyling.
The girls had quite a few drinks more than I did and at a certain point Celine and Emma started urging Sirin to, and I quote, “f the cute bartender”, who wasn’t that good looking in my opinion. And if it wasn’t for my maneuvering, our scheduled pick up at 1.00 and the guy’s shift ending at 3.00 she probably would have. She did make out though. So I turned out to be the chaperone trying to prevent the girls from making stupid mistakes while they were intoxicated.
There isn’t much else to tell otherwise, though. We were picked up at 1.00. Celine slept on my shoulder after exclaiming that Sirin should have f*d the guy. She gave me a kiss on the cheek as a thank you when we arrived and after some attempts to call the bartender (yeah, Sirin got a number) we all went to sleep. Sirin and Celine were so drunk that the next day’s hangover would be a bitch. I was compared to them very modest although looking back I probably drank more than I should have.
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Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
