One Wild Night in Mulbarton

Salamu

This post should actually be titled A Few Wild Nights in Mulbarton, but one night in particular stood out. 

And it is current events which inspired this post. Bafana Bafana are playing against Senegal at the Moses Mabhida Stadium tonight in Durban and I am stuck here in Sleepy Hollow. 

In the past, when we used to feel the need to attend an event but never had the means to do so... we improvised. 

One such night was at my best friends' parents house in Mulbarton South of Johannesburg. His parents were away on holiday so we had a house party at his place. We got A.B.S.O.L.U.T.E.L.Y HAMMERED (my liver starts panicking when I think about how much we drank that night)  and were watching some wrestling on the TV. 

The WWE were on tour in South Africa at the time but we couldn't afford to go and see them, so Michael's brother Rambo (who is a bit locco) gets a tarp [the same they use in Survivor] and puts it on the driveway. We put up four corner posts by hitting cricket wickets into bricks and we used stock standard string to make ring ropes. And we were determined that we were going to stage our own Royal Rumble as there was 30 of us. 

This seemed like an awesome idea at the time, but looking back: 29 white friends beating on one black guy at 2 am in the morning might look a tad suspicious. 

The neighbor across the road from Michael's parents house is one of these nosy sons of bitches who does not own curtains in the house and loved to stay up until all hours of the morning. The wife called the PO PO on us and when the John Law was at the gates, the general feeling at the house was that me being the oldest and most sober looking of the bunch go and talk to them. 

The fact that I leopard crawled my way to the gate didn't help and the fact that I tried to speak Arabic to them helped even less. Eventually I stopped being stubborn and  listened to what the cops had to say. They said they were responding to a call about a black man being severely beaten up. my response: "He isn't so bad officer. He might need a drip for a while and might need to walk on a stick for the rest of his life but otherwise he is fine." They could see we were a bit pissed so they laughed because they knew we were joking  They told us to behave and left. 

This made us louder and we carried on like a bunch of animals. We got to bed as the sun rose and I was sleeping when Michael got the call from his mom. The neighbor saw Michael's Aunt at church and ratted on us. Michael's Aunt in turn ratted on us to Michael's mom who had an hour long screaming session with Michael on the phone. 

To this day I hate a rat bastard! For those who do not know what a rat bastard is...its someone who cant wait to report the happenings of a person to a higher authority to get them in trouble.

Mei jua daima kuwa kabla yenu, na vivuli nyuma yako!