For most part Saturdays are usually fun, unless you’re the ill-fated one who ends up with the stalker from the Friday night spill over. Tip: Always leave the party while your favourite song is playing. Failing in doing so may result in solo footing around on the Evol dance floor at 4am. The lights are switched on, only to reveal your fellow desperados fucked off their tits. You take your pick and go home. This is not one of those evenings.

I spend greater Saturday in bed with my Friend, drinking Katembas, watching romantic comedies and catching up on some research. A preferred weekend activity. But the sun sets and it’s that time of the day when we meet M Blackman at the Bar for a daily update. He explains that, after I left him at Evol the previous night he must have been very drunk. He managed to scare off a stalker sending her bolting for the exit.

We have a few laughs and a few pints. My Friend is also there. The Russian arrives. She appears to be in good spirits and we all have a great time. The rest of the crowd is nice and pleasant. I few guys enter said bar, hitting on my Friend and the Russian. They appear to enjoy it. The boys introduce themselves to me. The one says his name is Romeo. I giggle. He says I can call him Rom though. I say my name is Juliette but he can call me Jules. He says he hasn’t heard that one before.

The night runs pretty smoothly and we are all very happy. But by home time one of the Romeos persist on hitting on the hot Russian. She says: Dude, leave me alone. He tries again. And tries again. And so on. I sense the Russian’s irritability and politely ask the pom to leave her alone. He says something original like: ‘Fuck off mate’. I ask him to leave.

The pom explodes into a tirade of gigantic pom proportions and attacks me. M Blackman turns on his barstool and politely asks the boy to leave.

At this point it is he who grabs Blackman by the throat, squeezes and whispers: ‘I’ll kill you in one second mate. I’ll rip your eyes out mate. Do you know who I am mate?’ Blackman, miraculously cured of his thumb injuries from the previous eve grabs the guy by the throat in response. I suppose it’s a standard response. The pom grasps Blackman’s chain and rips it off his neck. I step in and remove the guy off of Blackman.

But read Blackman’s version here.

And read the rest of his stuff here.

The whole thing gets a bit messy and The Russian steps in.

I am not in the mood and call the cops. While waiting I a tell the mad person to sit down and chat with me. He tells me not to touch him. I say sorry. He says: ‘I’ll kill you in one second mate. I’ll rip your eyes out mate. Do you know who I am mate?’ I explain that I don’t but that he should reconsider touching girls when they ask him not to. He responds: ‘I’ll kill you in one second mate. I’ll rip your eyes out mate. Do you know who I am mate?’

The cops arrive and try to arrest Blackman and me. I sort of glare at them a bit. They say: ‘Aar yoo responsitive four de disturbance’. I say no. They still want us to get into their van. I explain the situation to the cops but they clarify that they need to hear both sides. I politely explain that they should ask the fucking barman. They do and reply: ‘Sorry sirrr’.

But, while negotiating the Boere, Blackman is spading this Dutch bird. But the rest of the boys think this is good timing to make their move on the Russian. She kicks all of their asses and pours a beer over the Dutch bird’s head. The bird runs away.

I grab the Russian and pull her into the gambling room as the cops are still arbing about. The whole thing clears up eventually. The pom leaves screaming: ‘I am the Lion of Sheeba’. I am not sure about the Lion King reference and let it slide.

But the sweet boy Carlos, a Milli Vanilli lookalike was sort of involved. He asks if he could apologise to The Russian, in obvious fear of a beating. I explain that it’s OK. He approaches. The Russian knees him in the sack. He goes down. She responds with a fantastic uppercut. Carlos escapes by jumping the yellow couch. The Russian gets a last kick in and projects Carlos even higher. He dashes for the exit.


Blackman turns and asks: ‘But why did she pour the drink on the Dutch bird’s head. She was perfect for me. She is leaving in three days…’