were drunk with Sir Thom and, as it happened, another colleague from The Corporation who is also in the country on a company-sponsored week away from home.
Having not heard from Thom by 17h30, I thought he must be asleep after his flight and decided that it would be a good time to wake him up and let him be grumpy.
It turns out he was replicating his mail and in waiting for it to finish, had just nodded off with the laptop on his lap. "Were you sleeping?" are the first words I ask him. "Ummm, no", came the reply. "Good, welcome to Africa. Time for a beer. See you in 20mins." Nothing like not giving someone a little time to think about the potential consequences of saying "okay".
I meet Thom and Richard (Connor, from Belfast...yes, Prince Al, the same) at the Sandton Towers just after 18h00 and we have a few Pilsner Urquell's there. About 20h00 Thom asks if I'm hungry...obviously he is. The Butcher Shop is just across the road in Sandton Square and he's heard about it, so we saunter across the road to Sandton Square.
We sit down at our table after Thom successfully confuses the Maitron (PYT) with his Scottish humour and we all get a shock. There's a guy sitting next to us, who is Mike Tyson's spitting image...and he's American too. Obviously the local hoor who was with him thought he was MT as well, cos she was all over him and just about getting it on in the restaurant. We ignore them, thinking this the better course of action, knowing what MT's reputation is like for brawling.
Anyway, a few more beers and my rib-eye steak arrives. Quite tasty for the first couple of bites, but it seems the steak continues cooking itself on my plate and by the last bite, it's as tough as I imagine elephant hide might be, only not as hairy.
We finish up our meal, Thom settles the bill (nice to be rich when you're on the good side of a ZAR13 to GBP1 exchange rate) and we walk back across the road to the Towers where the two of them plead tiredness. It's after 22h00, so I figure it's probably best I get home as well. I thought of phoning Fishman to see if he was still at Action Drinking, but felt a little tired as well and decided to go home instead. Probably just as well, judging by his post about what time he got home.
On Friday afternoon, Thom and I head off to the Pilanesberg for a guy's weekend of game drives, bush braais and beers, so that he can use his nifty little Handycam on something other than rain clouds. I'll post some of the pics next week sometime if we get some good ones.
3 comments:
Scared Scot!!! I would have gladly wheeled you around in a wheelchair after Mike klapped you! My mother also has a couple of good soup recipes that you could have strawwed up!
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Where is the Pilansberg post?
Do you think you could stop drinking beers long enough for another post? Box!!
Salagatle!
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