{This was our little corner and no random peeps were allowed. Same corner as for P*s farewell drinks}.
{This reminds me of another raucous night out with B* last year - we were bubbling hard and B* still wanted to go to Zouk afterwards tsk tsk, my youngin days}.
The rundown: it was a great evening with gorge dudes who all stood in line and waited their turn to come greet Miss D, aah the life of a pussy cat doll :-) I wish! There was no talent at all - nada for the eyes to feast on. I get more action at the bookstore than I get at the club, now that hottie at the bookstore…he was some real lip smacking stuff. Had crazy fun though, the music was rocking, songs that are still playing in my mind are: dum du-du do-do doo dum dum get down, Fat Joe’s “Lean Back” {said, my niggaz don't dance, we just pull up our pants and do the rock away, now lean back, lean back, lean back, lean back}Booty Luv’s {I found a place where we can boogie, boogie tonight} and P Square’s “E no Easy” { E no easy eh (oh oh oh oh)} they even had some reggae going –rrra ra! I haven’t danced like that in ages! Most of the people there I hadn’t seen in at least one to two years. Wore my “don’t f*** with me heels” and they f*** me alright; these heels are hot alright but they are definitely not Manolo’s….so they had this girl walking veeeery slowly by the end of the night (ouch). It was also a sober night for me (saw some police at the entrance to the parking lot when I got in) – I’m also trying very hard to be an upstanding citizen. Not even one drink – just had Coke and Lemonade. There were shots of Patron floating around and bottles of Veuve and Vodka everywhere I looked but I stuck to my guns. Patron to me is like Shell V Power unleaded petrol: it revs me up real quick, puts the foot on the accelerator and takes me to a crazy place real fast, no Maam, not again. Maybe in another 3 months. I’m also thinking I should go through one of my prolonged detoxes again? Great decision too, because there was a mini-roadblock down Rivonia road. I’m telling you, every time I see the police (specifically the Metro Police) my right leg starts shaking and I don’t put my foot on the accelerator properly, the car near stalls, I panic, I look guilty and I just want it all to be over already. The policeman who came over to my car was really nice though, he didn’t hassle me at all, he didn’t even ask for my license, nothing, he just asked if I’d been out partying and I said yes and I also quickly added that I hadn’t been drinking and that I’d pass the breathalyzer test with flying colours. He then flashed his torch at me and told me to have a goodnight –*delirious batting her eyelids*. Took the wrong turn home and I wasn’t even drunk –what’s wrong with me? It’s those damn Metro police, they unsettle me mehn.
Great Besday Z*!
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