Per usual, I hitchhike to Kuruman from Maftown. His cousin, Paul, comes to pick me up from town. Paul is a doctor at the private hospital. I’ll be sleeping over at his house while his wife is off to see her parents. You know this means trouble! He’s also hosting the bachelor’s so I can get as pissed as I want!
When we get to his spot in Mothibistad and the festivities have already begun, although we’re expecting a lot more people to come later in the night. SK is there and he’s wearing something that resembles A Pimp Named Slickback’s purple suit. He looks like a pimp though, cane and all. I go change into my attire for the night: white shoes, white pants, a white Panama hat and a silk shirt. I polish off the look with some gold chains, albeit cheap versions I got from these thieves from Seoding village in Maftown. The guys also have taken the theme seriously and had shiny suits, gold chains and kick and boboza shoes.
They have girls who’re gonna be strippers for the night. The girls are wearing skimpy leopard print mini skirts, hideous looking heels and shiny dirty mangled tired looking weaves. My guess is that they’re whores and not varsity students as Paul claimed! They say you don’t look a gift whore in the mouth, but these gifts look like you can catch some shit by just saying hi. Liquor was not in short supply, with cheap cigars and snacks all over.
I would learn that there’s a special room where we can take these women and fulfill our nastiest fantasies, away from any judgemental eyes and camera phones!
This, it seems, was the most well planned bachelor’s I’ve ever attended. But niggas, booze and whores are a dangerous combination.
So, with the party in full swing I arrive and congratulate the man of the hour. “Pimp SK, congratulations buddy, are you ready for tonight?” “Ntja, its about to be an epic night. This is a night to remember.” He’s already well lubricated with the liquor and he’s not stopping anytime soon it seems. “Ntwana, do you want a lap dance or blowjob?” It will have to be a very dark room if I’m to get head from such fugly girls. “Let me get myself nice and toasted first and then we can get to the girls!”
The liquor flows, sexually suggestive dance moves are displayed, people throw up, girls get taken to the special rooms for some R&R, some of the fellas fall in love with the strippers.
Eventually, as would have been expected of him, SK passes in the bathtub. And that’s when the pranks start. At first it was the toothpaste on the head, shaving cream on the face and shoe polish on the beard and eyebrows. But things escalated quickly to what resembles those Hangover movies.
We carried him out of the bathtub and bundled him into the car. Off we went to the hospital with him. Paul talks to one of the guys who work at the hospital and a stretcher is pulled out. We wheel him to one of the wards and the nurse begins to put bandages on his head and the entire left arm, including the hand. She puts some stinking medicine on him, injects him with some local anaesthesia on his hand and we wheel him back to the car. This guy still hasn’t woken up for the whole trip.
Back at the house we put him into bed, some meat blood on his clothes and go park his car in the next street. We went back to the party and wait for the magical moment. Early in the morning of the wedding all we hear is someone screaming in the bedroom. “Aaaaaarrgggh!”
Ah, yes! The moment is here. We had fully rehearsed what the story was and what we were going to say, not bad for a bunch of drunk dudes.
He rushes out of the bedroom with a confused look on his face, “Bafwethu, I can’t feel my hand! And why am I bandaged up? What the hell is going on?” “SK, you need to sit down for this. You were in an accident last night. You drove alone in your drunk state and said you wanted to see your woman. None of us agreed to it but you insisted. You drove out and we followed you just to make sure you were safe. At the four way stop you got hit by an old Toyota van from the drivers side. We were not sure if you were alive but it looked like you hit you head and lost your hand. The doctor sew it back on but you can’t use it for a month. Your wife will have to put on the wrong on the right hand.” SK looks outside and check his car, “where’s my car?” “Its a write off buddy, sorry. The police had your blood drawn and if they tell your insurance we don’t know what will happen with that. Go ahead and check your hand.”
He slowly opens the arm bandage from the top, going as slow as possible. He reaches the hand and that look was worth the entire exercise. He unwraps the rest of the hand and starts with the head, still confused as shit. He looks at his reflection in the window but sees nothing, that’s when the guys start to crack up. Everyone laughed their ass off, but he wasn’t so amused, “le masepa a batho, all of you are not invited to my wedding anymore.”
But of course we did attend the wedding, and I shouldn’t talk about what we did there but I’m gonna do it anyway… Check it out in part 2 of wedding vibes.