So Cape Town's road systems weren't built to withstand the awesome might of an army of RHCP fans descending on our fair City. Clogging up the weary arteries of the old girl on their way to the stadium, it was left to everyone else trying to get home to find alternate routes. Which very quickly turned into a fucking fiasco.
Turning off Eastern Boulevard just before the 3-lane back-up from Searle Street all the way to the stadium, I thought I'd once again strained my luck to breaking point. Nipping in to Commander Conker's, we loaded up the dogs and made for Deer Park. Or so we thought. It took us until the sun went down just to make it around the corner and as far as the Perseverance Tavern, and then it became abundantly clear that we weren't ever going to see the mountain. The genius that I am, I suggest running the dogs on leashes back to the house, grab our wallets, and run back down for a pint - as opposed to asking the friendly owner if we could bring the pooches inside.
Sound idea in principle.
Until I find myself running behind Mr Cheerful Chops, who has a prize-winning pedigree black Staffie on a black leash - me and my white pony tail bringing up the rear with a hyper-active Jack Russell on an adorable pink leash. Like the fucking good wife! I wonder what the irate commuters thought of our happy little family unit as it hurtled along past their stationary vehicles...
And then he treated me to dinner. I still haven't figured out if that made me feel better or worse.
Be that as it may, today is a new day. We face new trials and tribulations. Most of last night's concert revellers hopefully face the day regretting having drunk as much as they did. Or struggling through a hellish day of work in this wonderful heat. Personally I can't wait to have a decent run, having missed out to a certain extent yesterday. Then it's rush home and prepare for meeting and band practice. No rest for the occasionally wicked, then, I guess. With any luck I'll even get to see some of the AFCON semifinals as well. The perpetual state of being semi-tired continues!
And with that, all the RHCP commentary dies - bar a few stragglers still insistent on letting me know that they in fact got their money's worth. Aaaaaand cue the Skrillex bashing. Or is it Metallica's turn first?
NGDG: I'd happily pay more if they'd coat the inside of the Yogisip container with Teflon.
Spread The Love. You May Not Get Another Chance.
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