I've thought long and hard...

about what to post regarding last night's Action Snooker night. Problem is, a lot of it is a blur right now. But let me see what I can remember...

I got to the Club at about 5:30pm after sitting in traffic for an hour (I had a presentation that went on until 16h30 so I left just in time for the gridlock) and on the road Fishman phones to find out if I'm lost as I'd said to him I'd be there around 5pm. Then he rubbed it in by saying "Ok, I'll drink your beer for you". Nice...

Luckily I'd printed off the directions to the club otherwise I'd have got totally fuckin' lost in "All Bert On". It's one of those towns that, through the expansion of Joburg, has literally been swallowed into the city and the street system is totally fucked up (unless, of course, you know where you're going having been there before, which I hadn't). Anyway, I wasn't too long in finding the Club and was soon standing in front of the man known to the world as "Meerkat".

Fishman introduced us and we got chatting as soon as there was a draught in front of me, which was followed very soon with the first "Jager-bomb". An evil drink, it's the equivalent of the old "depth charge" but this has a shot glass of Jagermeister in a scotch glass surrounded by an energy drink, take your pick of them but Red Bull is the one most commonly used. Needless to say, it's taken in in one swift gulp, a sugar rush of note. What an introduction, and I could feel my liver already cringing in fear, trying to bite its way out of my back.

We must have sat at the bar for a good hour or so, chatting about a variety of topics, accompanied by a couple of draughts, with Fishman moving onto the Capn's Organ sooner than expected. I know there's plenty of funny tales to tell cos we had some good laughs, but for the life of me, I can't remember a single one. I did, however, find out where the name "Meerkat" came from. Actually, it's not a nickname, it's his REAL name.

Just kidding...

The nickname came from the sad security situation we have in this country of having to look all about and around you when leaving your car or home. As a real Meerkat does, when he comes out of his den he looks up at the sky to see if there are any hawks about, likewise, he looks around to see if there are any jackals that might want to eat him. In doing this, the Meerkat strains his neck out to make himself as tall as possible, to see as far as possible. So the nickname came from the habit of looking around while leaving home, looking for papvreters(c) who might want to repatriate some of his possessions.

We decided we better get into the snooker room and do what we'd gone to the club for, aside from swilling drinks. A couple of games later, on the full size table, and we'd decided we'd had enough exercise for one night. Back out into the bar area, and another of the Jager-bombs appears in front of me...{groan}... From that point on, I knew it was going to be a rough night.

Sometime around 9pm, just before the club closed the bar (some vague explanation had been given earlier but I think they were afraid of us), some of Meerkat and Fishman's other club mates join us and together we all agree to head off to a watering hole called "The Winning Post". Now the name might make you think that it has something to do with horse racing, but aside from the old betting post mounted in the middle of the room, the place has as much to do with the ponies as deep sea fishing does.

The place is virtually empty, aside from a couple of yokels who you can see frequent the place on Wednesday's for their favourite past time...KARAOKE!! Everyone in our group gets another Jager-bomb thrust upon them by the ever-persuasive Meerkat and then we sit down and proceed to kill off a couple of bottles of the Capn's Organ. I have absolutely no idea how many I had, only that it was plenty.

During some of the karaoke numbers, a few of the locals get on the floor to participate in their second favourite past time...Langarm Dans (known to some as Windsurfing, due to the position of the arms looking like the shape of a windsurfer's sail). It's a sport in these parts. Personally I've never got the hang of it, as most of my partners have shorter arms than me which would make us look like one of the ropes had come off the sail.

I watch this lot with some amusement, but some of them are actually quite good at it. Some of the karaoke participants, on the other hand, are not, but we have loads of laughs and the evening is great fun.

Meerkat, at some point, decides it's time to head off home. I don't remember what time that was. Fishman and I remain for a while but at around 12h30 or so (I think) we decide to make a run for it and leave the remaining drinkers. Someone had put a brandy and coke in front of each of us and the sip I had made me just about spew, it was so sweet compared to the Capn's.

It's fuckin' freezing outside and we hightail it for our cars, with Fishman getting off at such a speed it's like he's afraid of what's waiting for him at home or has the fear of having to buy another of those Masturbating Kits he's promoting on his blog. I crank up the heater and am soon as warm as fresh toast. The drive, thankfully, passes uneventfully and I get home and into the shower to get rid of the smell of cigarette smoke from the pub. It's a horrible stink and I don't know how people can breathe it into their lungs. The couple of drags of a joint that I've had through my life have been enough to put me off it forever.

So, at around 1am, I crawl into the nice warm bed, snuggle up to the nice warm Steph and disappear into Lala Land for a few hours.

The evening, as I've already said, was great fun and I'm sure we'll be doing it again soon. As it is, we owe Meerkat a night out...he ended up buying all the drinks at the club as he gets a 15% discount using his club card and refused all efforts on our part to buy drinks. Next time it's our turn and it'll probably be at the Action Drinking arena where we sometimes play cricket too.

Fishman...dankie vir die memories. Wag 'n bietjie...wat se memories? Ek kan amper fokol van gisteraand onthou... Meerkat...dankie vir die lekker aand uit, en bly te kenne...