It was all wrong. This happens time and again when you organise something and not just be spontaneous. Like “Come chaps, we’re hammered and ready to rock and roll – let’s go to the Coloneeeeeeeee!” When previously unplanned.
Those always end up being the best nights.
A large pre-holiday final thrash was organised for Friday by C and I with Ramone, E, N, C2 and the rest of the world. The venue? Where else, I mean c’mon. The Manhattan Club naturally.
Peeyuke. Although admittedly, I have spent a good portion of my salary there this year, and fucking enjoyed it too.
I think what broke the camel straw (yes, that thing) was when someone said to me: “You know your boyfriend is so fucking sexy. So hot. I mean, he’s just insanely amazing. Just the sexiest thing ever. Like, step aside.”
OK, easy. Easy tiger.
I know this person. I’m all for and fine with people complimenting my choice in man with: “Well done Peas, he seems lovely.” Or, “Awesome chap Peas, nice looking too, I hope he treats you right.”
But unstoppable gushing followed by dreamy staring just makes me a little tense. Especially after three Jaegerbombs.
But let’s retract. For the first time in years, I didn’t feel supersonically sexy myself. I chose the wrong outfit after dinner at Gourmet Garage – which I had to change into in the parking lot, with Smoking Legs holding up a towel to hide my boobies from the world – and it suddenly dawned on me that this shirt I bought last week, actually doesn’t look all that, even though five minutes ago I thought it was. It actually looks like an apron. I mean, was I blind? No wonder it was on sale.
Second mistake, I wasn’t wearing heels. Unusual. I always wear heels. Especially to places where I need to look like a swan. And predictably, my flats made me feel flat.
After a couple of drinks, tenseness and general just not loving the vibe, we went to get some coffee and sat on the sidewalk sipping and talking.
I enjoyed that part of the evening.
And the part where I had wonderful sex.
He met my mum on Sunday and she had the perfect response: "He's lovely Peas. Himself, relaxed, polite and interested." Now that's what I'm talaking about.
We first met each other when we worked at a ski resort in Colorado six years ago.
I obviously assumed he was American when I first saw him. Coincidentally, as there were only, like, seven South Africans at this resort, he turned out to be one of us.
I was 21 and still very happy with Ex S – we had gone there to live, work and ski together after all. But Smoking Legs and I cannot deny the fact, and admitted this to each other way back then and again now, that the first-laid-eyes-on instant attraction was supersonic.
Supersonic, but I was still very much in love with Ex S. And remained that way for years to come until The End.
I have never felt such extreme instant, undeniable and mutual chemistry with anyone like this before. Have yet to anyway. I stayed far away though.
Now, six years later, here we are. Timing is everything, which then also equates to: everything does happen for a reason. If there are two things I’ve learnt over the year, this is it.