My best friend, Mr Grossi (ex ‘Durbanaat’ and Bear lover) arrived in Durban from Cape Town to pay me a visit, laugh at Renault Brown, Feng Shui The Flat of Awesomeness and gag at my cooking. This was all to be expected. What I wasn’t counting on was having to experience The Durban Grossi, which is basically the polar opposite to The Cape Town Grossi.
Having spent three days in Durban, one evening he arrived at my front door and presented me with a punnet of cooked pork sausages. He had this wild look in his eyes, like he’d just come back from a hunt. His hair was disheveled, and he looked more rugged than I’d ever seen him look before. I went into shock. Why weren’t his shoes matching his shirt? Why didn’t he smell like Hugo Boss? Where the hell was his Man Bag? And what’s with these pork sausages? When I confronted him about it, he mumbled something about the vibe in Durban just bringing out the Rugger-Bugger (excuse the pun) in him. Had three days in Durban managed to turn my best friend Hetro? Good God, I hope not. But as the week progressed, I began to realize that my flamboyant friend was no more. ‘The Durban Vibe’ had somehow managed to get its filthy Durban Jock fingernails into him via osmosis. The week progressed as follows:
Day2: Durban Grossi manages to get Renault Brown out of The Parking Of Death and doesn’t flinch when a shard from her clutch stabs him through his SHOELESS foot.
Day3: Durban Grossi suddenly knows all the mechanical intricacies and differences between a DEFY and a LG washing machine.
Day4: Durban Grossi suddenly knows what a glue gun is, how it works and can tell you all about the dynamic structure of Thermoplastic glue if you don’t tell him to shut the fuck up.
Day5: Durban Grossi is suddenly an expert on how to fix Steering Wheel Locks. He can also head bang at a Goth club and instead of ordering his usual ‘waat waan wuth arse,’ chooses to drink several Brandy and Cokes instead.
Day6: Durban Grossi suddenly knows how to get those little plastic thingies to stay on the end of a Hilti nail. Who is this man?
Day7: Durban Grossi manages to excrete two (very neat) sweat patches under each arm while carrying the heaviest mirror in the world up four flights of stairs.
I HAVE BEEN ASKED BY MR GROSSIE TO POST THE FOLLOWING COMMENT AS HE IS SOMEWHAT TECHNICALLY AUTISTIC:
ReplyDeleteFrom the ‘ex’ Durbanaat’, now Capetonian (self-proclaimed bear admirer btw) HRH Mr Grossi … to the ‘new’ Durbanaat, ‘ex’ Capetonian, Ray Ray B. Although I have been a member of your blog since day one, I must confess that I haven’t been keeping up to date with your posts. Sorry babe but you know how hectic my life is.
Anyway I first heard of my grand entrance into literary fame through a mutual friend of Ray Ray’s and mine at a friend’s birthday a few weeks back … apparently I was an undercover drill wielding heterosexual with a rugged look about me…. besides being completely turned on at the thought I made a point of remembering to check this one out. Let me give the good readers of your blog a little perspective …. I moved to the fair Cape 6 years ago and met Ray Ray at the Rooi and Geel school of logic and fucked-upness …. (she will no doubt now proceed to type exactly how the meeting went … it’s her favorite story and one she never forgets to tell to any poor passing bastard who comes across our path). I, having escaped from the very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very (get the point) tight clutches of my 90210 family found 6 minutes of freedom as a new ‘Capetonian’ before I was very quickly corrected by Ray Ray who stated that one had to live in Cape Town for more than 6 years before they could lay claim to the ‘Capetonian’ title … one that she had (naturally) and I didn’t….well the sock is on the other foot now innit little Ray Ray. Following my push back into purgatory the art elocution became the hot topic with ‘waat waan, arse, fysh, maam’ being a few of the many words to be replaced by the likes of ‘wHItE wInE, Ice, fIsh, mUm’ and so the transformation of Eliza Doolittle continued .. many a night of ‘The rain in Spain … huh … what is the rest …. let’s go get another joint’ conversation continued … but baby look at me now … my Durban friends don’t understand a word I’m saying and if one more old lady says ‘ooh you speak so well, you must be very artistic’ … well let’s not even go there. It’s thanks to you my babe that the “Mucho, mucho man” comes out in Durban and the “YMCA” happens in Cape Town…. I wonder if living half way would turn me into a mangayrian ….? Your infamous blue cheese pasta was great (thanks to cheap waat waan) .. I tell you adding a few PEPPERS into it and some fairly decent waat waan would work wonders. The glue thing, yeah well those are a few tips I learnt when money was low and glue was the only thing affordable. Defy VS LG … I had a friend once who had an LG which kept on leaking … personally I think most of the men out there would go for the one that swallows rather than the one who spits? All in all it was a great read and brought back cool memories of you again … miss you lots babe, CT is not quite the same without you, much love the now CAPETONIAN BEAR LOVING, MANGARIAN XOXO. Gossip Girl out.