Yesterday I bumped into my A-rab Sugardaddy while leaving work. Special K was standing there in his finest army general’s kit, smoking with his dish-dash wearing friend.
SK: Come here [grabs my hand]. Tell me, what do you have a mobile phone for?
Me: [Blushing. Last time he called me was at 10pm on a Thursday night. I didn’t answer.]
SK: I theenk you have a phone to receive the phonecall. And to make the phonecall. But your phone it does not work. It must be broken because you are never answering me when I call.
Me: Rubbish. I do answer my phone, but the last time you called, I was out with my friends. [Lie: I was watching a DVD with Peggy Bundey. And did not feel like a chat with the A-rab].
SK: I don’t theenk so. I theenk your boyfriends is not happy I am calling you and he is trying to control you. And that is why you are not answering me.
Me: No, no. It’s not like that. [Instantly regretting saying it].
[SK eyeballing me]
Me: I’m really sorry, I am on my way to gym and I’ll be late for my class [Truth].
SK: Wait. Let me look at you. [Grabs my hand, spins me around. God]. You are not needing the gym my darling. You are not fat.
Me: Ha. Ha. [What the faark to say to that. Knowing that I will be needing to call on the guy for a mate’s Visit Visa sometime next week].
SK: Listen, I am off to Hong Kong next week. I will give you my other mobile number. Call me and tell me what I can bring back for you.
Me: Ha … Ha. [Oh, holy smoking sheesha pipes].
The afternoon’s BodyPOMP class was like being hooked up to some kind of medieval instrument of torture. The instructor is hardcore - on all levels. It has a spikey, grey crop of hair, army-style. It wears rugby shorts and barks at the class with a demonic smile plastered to its face. Frightening.
At any given moment it may drop its’ weight bar like a red-hot poker, come crashing down off the stage (lunging 1000 horsepower hulking quads), and loudly identify what you are doing wrong. “Fuuurzer aparrt, keep your hendz fuuurzer apaarrrt!”
Apparently it once it had a twin sister. Which it ate. Walking up the stairs this morning to the 5th floor – I was slower than a three-legged llama with Parkinson’s making its way up the Andes. Good pain though.
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4 comments:
Heddles,
Did you forget the immense satisfaction on her face when we were in the hardest and most unbearable of positions... Demon - yes. Worth it - hell yes. Can I walk - Faark no.
Special K, seems to be all the cheese you need! I wouldn't mind getting a laptop when you call him in HK.
Yes - she loved it. The more tears we pushed out, the happier she became. Bitch.
Ja I'll add the laptop to my list: Blackberry, iPod, Chinese boyfriend ...
I'll say it again - when he starts offering your parents camels or as-good-as-Gucci handbags for your matrimonial vows, RUN.
We all know it's coming...
It could be a cushy existence though koeks. I'd never work again...
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