Sleepy hollow Gems and Irritating Brits.

Salamu.

This weekend saw the first  full weekend I have spent in Sleepy Hollow (Pietermaritzburg) since I moving in about three months ago.

First lets discuss the reasons behind my stay. I have had a busy December and New Years where I spent enough time with family and as you all know, I do like some time by myself.

So it was that this weekend was dedicated to doing what I wanted to do.

I think I have made it clear on this blog that while I am not the biggest gambler in the world, I do like to roll them bones and spin them wheels for money from time to time. I have heard a lot about the Golden Horse Casino so I decided to try it out.

It was the first casino in South Africa that I have gone to where they do not charge you for entrance and it is the  first casino I have been to in South Africa which does not seem like it is bursting at the seams with loads of people.

My game of choice always has been, and always will be European Roulette. Most of the time I lose but there is the odd occasion where I hit it big and win quite considerably by my standards. I exchanged R300 for chips and was getting a bit stuffed up by the Hubid spinning the wheel. In fact I was down to my last R50 rand when the new spinner came and I caught 4 two way splits and 3 numbers in a row. I then correctly called the section of the table where the next number would fall as well as catching that number straight and a two way split.

At the end of the day I won R1 300, which to me is not bad work for two hours at the table.

But what was nice about the casino was that it didn't feel as if there was a human wave pushing against you to place their bet. And there were no arms appearing out of nowhere to place bets. it was nice and pleasurable.

I then went to the Keg and Hedgehog to catch some FA Cup action and got chatting to a gorgeous voluptuous looking blonde number at the bar. As we got more pissed we flirted more and more, just before we hit the Stroh Rum she suggested that she will charm the hell out of me. I called her bluff accusing her of being: "All show and no go" so she suggested that we meet up for breakfast in the morning.

I was hoping that this would take place at her place after a night of inspecting her asset portfolio (which looked promising) and assessing the firmness of her bottom end (which looked extremely promising). But the fact that we had to call a cab to take her home meant that my chances of participating in any such activities was none.

So Sunday came and I found yet another gem of Sleepy Hollow...St Mary's Church.

It is this real old church which is not the largest I have been in, but the checkered floor tiles reminded me of Westminster Abby (which is the global home of the Anglican Church). The priest gave a moving service and it didn't feel like I was going to the same mass as the Grim Reaper's near future clients.

So off I go to the Cascades shopping center after mass and find the girl I was chatting to the previous night. She looked ravishing and was cute as a button. She even apologized for the fact that I had to see her end up in the state that she was.  But then the conversation went downhill.

We got chatting about ancestry and it turns out she is from Pontipridd in Wales and moved to south Africa when she was 17 with her parents. I had never been with a Welsh girl before, but considering my liking for Charlotte Church I was keen to dala this girl. I said that I was from South Africa, but my ancestors were from Lebanon.

The cow then said possibly the worst thing under the current circumstances.

“It must be hard having such violent ancestors who strap bombs to their chests. The Brits would never do anything like that.”

NICE. So I look at this girl (while pulling a fist under the table) and say in the coolest tone I could muster. “Those would be the Iraqi’s and the Afghani’s. Not the Lebanese. Ad I don’t quite like the tone of your voice or the direction of this conversation.” After this I got up and left her high and dry at the table with the bill and a breakfast she didn’t know what to do with.

I really detest people who are arrogant and think that they are God’s gift to humanity. But unfortunately the Brits are naturally like that.

In her defense, she did contact me today and for a second time apologized for her actions. I forgave her really quickly and suggested she lay off the Brit arrogance a bit. Who knows, maybe the Welsh birds can outperform the Geordie and Essex birds?