Monday, September 15, 2008
In MY LAST post before this i silently evaded the issue as to why i got stood up at the bar like my swagger was leprosy. I think it may be pay back for one of the many crushes i've had in my long but seemingly short life. Lets rewind to Cape Town, dont know if it was 2007 or 2006...i dont even know why its pay back, i've already suffered for it. Sometimes a LADIES MAN
may stumble and fall if his dick is too big and he accidentally steps on it.
Her name was and still is Leandre...we have nothing in common...i once wrote about her in a short story but fictionalised her enigma to a loose abstraction of my anger, lust and maybe even tainted love(its called Iron Horse, find it here under the blog section www.myspace.com/spacevein)
...she could never be so sinister, or could she? were in the same classes since day one..and even when i dropped Film for Law, she did the same thing, and when i failed Law she did the same thing...I'm like come on baby! now theres a pattern here..youre copying my moves...i dig your moves, your hips dont lie like Shakira's booty sweat. You dont have to say a thing, my eyes will be your lips and curiosity will be your words.
But it was during those days when i was studying law that my obsession with the fair toned enigma erupted into a cancer of my mind. I would sit behind her and look at her neck, wishing i could grab at it and say
"dot, dot, dot,
theres some thing crawling down your spine
slight breeze( Then blow on her neck)
and now you got the shivaries"
I would make jokes about you to my friends Dmtri and Ayanda , but they both i knew i wanted to swim in the celestial pond of her innocence and menthol mcigarrete aroma whilst basking in the ambience of my ignorance, till this day i think she liked Dmtri better, because Dmtri gets bitches standard.
Was leandre supposed to go off with Dmtri and i'm left with Anjuli(Silver Fox) and Erica(papa wemba)?this would not work for me...i really like dig your like accent...I've never liked anyone from durban before, did she ever eat those pineapples on a stick covered in curry? Like so totally fcuking fucked up how like guys are so like totally fucked fucked up.
Was i supposed to suppress my jungle sotho desires over this? No, i did not, Dmtri wasnt interested in her..he thought she was a confused coloured girl who thought she was white (and besides, i silently let him have puke face British Judy, he owed this one to me)...
i felt her inner turmoil...i thought of ways to TRY to tell her to read Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man in order to help with her issue without getting all up in her panty grill and private affairs...this may not be her issue, but whatever it was, i was willing to eat it up with a spoon, a long ear drum chorus, a pack of dunhill lights and maybe even a condom.
Me and the crew used to always have debates about aids..like what we'd do if we found out we had aids and which celebrities we'd still have sex with if they had aids and what not. One day Leandre overheard our heated discussion and she heard me say i'm too scared to get a HIV test(i knew i was negative though,i just wanted my war stories to be gory), you laughed and you said you were a virgin and you didnt need to. I believed you, i didnt beleive her, you and her make my point of view shift like a marble in a can of half drank guinness.
I remeber one day when i was having a cigarette outside the law library, she was standing outside too with a pink top and her hair was slapping her face gently to the sound of that oh so familiar Cape Town wind. I sat next to her and talked about school,politics and Tom Cruise's appearance on Oprah, then i got a sweet whiff of her perfume courtesy of that oh so familiar wind, i told her how enchanting she smelt but she shruggged and looked at her feet likw what i said was heresy...slander, libel, blasphemy, disbelief. Leandre did not believe in a Sotho poltergeist.
And then how can we forget the day when she finally gave in and said we should go party some time...we were supposed to meet at Bahgdad Cafe, i got too drunk at Karabo's house on Royal Dutch Beer because we were celebrating the end of our exams, i unfortunately passed out like a gentleman...when i woke up and eventually got to the club, the bouncer wouldnt let me in because according to him " youre too drunk and your emotions are too close to the skin". This motherfucker thinks he's Beth Orton.
We didnt talk for a while after that, i sent you over 4 million text msg's saying i'm sorry..thought it was all over, but no! you failed law too..back to Humanities baby. Here you were famous, your friends increased while mine died, i fought a war with snakes,snails, bitches and shit, but your reign over the Arts faculty continued untill your friends started to look like concubines and lepers. You were trully in charge.
Then later by chance, i met you at Joburg(the club), you were looking very sophisticated with your grey waist coast and your signature cute beret..you were dancing, you were happy. The pope released his doves. I saw you and we hugged for the first time...Everything was good untill my psuedo rap life as re-enacted by my manners ruined my mack life.
Later That night dmtri and the rest of the crew joined me and Leandre, Silver Fox and some other German broad with sub-par english. Leandre was making jokes about how i had aids due to the remark she once heard me make...she wouldnt stop and i got a bit too hip-hop defensive..i said " bitch please".
She got mad, i got embarassed. I got mad. The sewers even spat up a dead cats pancreas. The city went mad. The Porsches werent enough, the champagne tasted like blood and urine but her heair was still auburn and it still talks to me in my sleep sometimes. But alas, i've cutten of my losses and my balls, heres to my past and here's to your future.
THE LADIES MAN(Formally known as the Whipped Man").