The Tart is up here in Jozi town which as you can imagine I am completely über loving! As of course is customary when one’s fellow tarts visit my concrete jungle I have to show them the sights. And by sights I mean all the men, men, men, men, men, men. Luckily for me the males that were out on parade last night were of rather fine specimen (which is unusual as of late), particularly the guy that hit on me whilst his girlfriend was parking the car – I reckon this dude has got his shit all worked out!
During the major paruzzing that occurred, The Tart mentioned to me that she would just love it if I took her to the Dodgy Roger. I was of course utterly shocked that she even knew about such a scheit hole considering she had been living in the Mother City for the past umpteen years… I mean who knew that the Dodge had such far reaching legendary capabilities!
So what started off as a rather peaceful beginning to a drink or 2 at the Roger quickly turned into every tarts nightmare (not surprisingly, considering our surroundings)… Yip, we were approached, and I say approached because this dude literally looked like a cat stalking its prey – fuckingly charming for us! This individual could clearly not read the pure distaste and what can only be described as disgust on my face when he had the cheek to ask us to join him and his equally as minging mates… I was taking a major page outta Crombie’s book and doing my best to bare my teeth and be as nonchalant and rude as possible. This fucker, however, was on his own personal seek and destroy mission. Brother!
After 5 minutes of conversation with this fuck-witt, he eventually used the what-does-you-do-for-a-living-card (a most valid sign that it is definitely time to cut your losses and move on to greener more willing pastures) to which it emerged that he made trains. Well fuck me I thought – how utterly bloody fascinating, please can I drop my panties right now! Oh phuleez Mr Train Man! ARG! How utterly lucky and in love I felt at that moment… *gag* He even made the little choo choo motion (at this point I was starting to have violent, yet completely justified, visions of smashing my glass into his face and THEN seeing if he could do those retarded movements. Ass.)
Eventually our Spoornet worker got the hint and fucked off, but not before trying to plant his choo choo seed with some other unsuspecting tarts that had the same amount of disgust on their face. After rejection numero two set-in (hilarious) our 007-spread-your-choo choo-out-there-cause-you-will-eventually-get-a-bite skulked off after the first tart he saw wearing a shirt… What a lucky, lucky lady!
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