Lying awake in my bed at around 1:00 at night. It was not that I could not sleep but the fact that my girlfriend, who I just took for larney breakaway in Cape-Town was angry with me.I was trying to figure out what I did wrong. After 5 minutes of deep thought I came up with an alarming amount of possibilities.
But I am sure it was my interference with the Macaroni and cheese preparation. Call me a purist or a snob, I just really think there should be at least some bacon with this dish, and cheese would also be nice. Another possibility that came to mind was the fact that we do not currently have an oven door. It just fell off. Really, it just fell of one night about 17 months ago. Since then we mostly ate “new world food”. Basically stuff that can be prepared in one pan. Mostly mince.
The reasons for my celibacy were mounting. The fact that I had to get up to fly to PE in three hours did not help either. IN the distance I heard one of my neighbours starting up a generator. This did not make me think about Eskom or the fact that Valentine’s day were going to start off wrong tomorrow morning. I was also nervous about my gift situation. I actually thought about an email I got earlier the day from one of my pals. He works for a company that does backup power for Telkom. I just touched base with him to find out, what he was up to. “I am leaving the company”, the response came. “The next two days will be the longest of my live. I cannot believe that I still have to be here for two days before I can start my new career”, he complained. I tossed around in my bed.
That is not a long wait I thought. Two days is nothing compared to what I had to suffer through? Suddenly my forehead was dripping with sweat. I got so nervous. How is it possible that my remarks about putting cheese in Macaroni and cheese can make me so nervous? You see about 2 years ago I was still working for a company that used to produce electricity. We were flying around quite a bit. It was long days with hectic schedules. I sort of picked up a problem or two health wise. To solve one of these little problems I had to set up an appointment with a proctologist. Because these guys are quite busy, I had to wait 2 weeks to see him. The surname sounded Italian or even Greek. I wasn’t sure what a prostate is or what proctologist do, but for some reason the people that found out about my appointment gladly shared with me what will happen. Most of my friends took great pleasure in telling you what will happen in the minutes that follow after I enter this doctor’s surgery.
My friend Nico, two days is not a long wait. Two weeks is long. Two weeks with the knowledge that a man, will stick a finger, and by some counts probably two fingers up your crack is long. The day arrived and yes, is was two fingers.(and plenty lube)
Returning from PE and driving back to my Randburg house, I saw a guy buying one rose in front of me. Shame the roadside shopkeeper had to pull one from a bouquet. This guy made me miss the green light and I almost lost my temper. Just before I gave him the finger I realized that he just taught me a lesson. It is never too late. I hooted at the shopkeeper. He came running, and I bought a rose.
As the guy behind me started swearing and shouting since he would miss the robot, I smiled…..now just to fix the oven.
Article first appeared on MYDL 17 Fed, 2009
