Chronicles of a small town playboy – Chapter 20

Men lie! That’s where Chapter 20 should stop as this is a well known fact of life. Men lie about almost everything. The size of their dick, what they did with their bonus money, why they have a box of condoms/receipt of a box of condoms in their spare wheel/first aid box/sunglass holder?, and a dozen other lies.

Women are human and lie just like men, too. “I’m on my periods!” I’m a virgin!” Its your baby!” I’m a virgin!” You have such a big dick!” I’m a virgin!” I have never sucked a dick before in my life!” I’m a virgin in the ass!”
So back in PTA my flatmate decided that he won’t be coming to live with me anymore because he’s moving in with that ugly girlfriend of his. I then stayed by myself for a month until I got bored and asked a friend of mine from Mafikeng to come live with me. At least she was a platonic friend and not someone I was looking to bang. You don’t want to come back drunk late at night and see opportunity to creep on baby girl, that will just make shit awkward.
So Tsholo became my new flat mate. Taller than your average girl, half black half indian, chocolate skin, skinny like a model, face like Miss SA, reckon those perky-ass tits were a DD, ass from the black side of the family, and hair from the Indian side of the family. She was a student at Tuks, too. All I know was that she did numbers or whatever Accounting thing that was.
I liked Tsholo. We would sit and drink Vodka together, listen to Jill Scott and Erykah Badu, tell corny jokes, sometimes spark the shrubbery and cook an awesome meal. She was an awesome cook, too. Always tried new stuff here and there, mixed this with that and always used herbs instead of spices.
Tsholo didn’t really have a man, just random niggas she went on dates with. These random niggas would come through to the flat to pick her up or sleep over. They would find me on the couch without my t-shirt on drinking beer, or the most common one: She in a bra and pants and me in m boxers. That shit would confuse the shit out of them niggas. She was never ready when they picked her up and when I knew they were coming I would make sure I’m in my boxers. In winter it would be boxers and a hoodie. I’ve never had a comment from her about the state of dress I would be in so I just continued making them niggas uncomfortable. I should have worn jockeys but that would have been a bit too far for Tsholo, it was them I was making uncomfortable, not her.
One of these guys once came through to the house carrying a cheque book, car keys, a big-ass wallet, white kick and boboza with the white socks and those BEE Nokia 9110i phones looking like a fake tender dude only to later find out this bastard was a low-level clerk at some government department.
I always rated the guys on their and teased her afterwards. These niggas would hear me shout a number and wonder what the hell that was for.
I then broke the very same rules that I set for myself. STAY AWAY FROM HER!
On a nice Saturday afternoon she and I decided to have one of our vodka parties. “Cheers, Tsholo. This one is to friendship and not finding a man.” “Wa bora wena Sipz. Cheers friend.” We had a few cranberry and vodka’s, I grilled some fish in the oven and she made that mash potato that I love. “Sipz, its getting cold. Let’s go watch a movie in my bedroom.” So we head off to her bedroom and, politely, I take off my jeans and get under the covers. She, unwittingly, puts on her shorts and gets under the covers as well. All this seemed pretty normal and not out of the ordinary.
I woke up in the middle of the night with her in sleeping on my chest. She also suddenly woke up and looked up at me. We stared into each other’s eyes and started kissing passionately. That night we went all in, and in all my days of trying to be a playboy I banged without condom. I understood what all the nama-to-nama hype was about. It was perfect!
#ThatAwkwardMoment we woke up naked and remembered what we were up to during the night. Were my playboy days over with before they even properly started?
Saved by the bell… My phone rings, and it’s my dad. “Sipho, get into a taxi and come home now!” “Why, Dad?” “I said come home now!”
No matter how awkward my evening with Tsholo was I was still keen to finish it and find out where she and I stood. But my Dad had other things going on.
When I got home there were police everywhere! What the hell was going on?! The police were loading up the Benzes and Beemers, furniture and clothes. “Dad, what’s going on?!” “Sipho, go to your uncle Jackson’s house right now! There’s no time to explain!”
Uncle Jackson, aka Action Jackson, was not my blood uncle, just a really close family friend. “Uncle Jackson, what’s going on?” “Sipho, your Dad said I must tell you everything and not leave out any details. The police you saw there are the Hawks anti-corruption unit. They’ve implicated your Dad in some shady deals with some of the tenders he got. They say he paid a bribe to facilitate a tender with the Education DG. They say your father paid the DG over 100 cows from his farm. They’re now attaching everything. This is wrong and we will not allow them to do that. One thing they can’t attach right now is another farm that was bought in you name. You need to go there now and sell everything before they find out!”
Wow, okay. That was quite a bombshell! My Sunday has now changed and become a total cock-up.
Action Jackson had organised a seller already and all I had to do was go sign documents and do some sort of hand over as my Dad couldn’t be seen there. So my Jackson’s son drove me to the Free State to sign the documents and hand over everything. I was so confused and perplexed that the trip down to the Free State was a complete blur. I spent the rest of week back in Mafikeng sorting out where the family will stay and comforting my mother.
Eventually I got back to PTA to the unresolved mess I left. “Hey, Tsholo.” “Hi, Spiz.” “Sorry for leaving so abruptly the other day. I had an emergency back home.” “It’s fine, Sipz. I understand.” “So, about Sunday morning, I wanted to know your feelings about it. I never managed to talk to you about it.” “Sipz, if you were so concerned then why didn’t you call me?” “Tsholo, I told you I had an emergency at home. I had to deal with that and get it out of the way. I knew I was going to see you anyway. It was best that I speak to you face to face.” “Sipz, what did you think I was going to do for these couple of days when you were gone?” “But I’m here now and I want to sort it out.” “Sipz, I was here alone not knowing if I’m pregnant or not. I was here wondering what I will do with these new feelings I have for you. I sat and cried not knowing what to do. How do you think I felt all this time?”
Well that was a shock. I never figured she was falling in love with me. I never had plans to be a boyfriend either. This is not going to end well.
“Tsholo, there’s a strong possibility I might have to leave the flat because of this situation I have at home.” “So you’re leaving me already!?” “That’s not what I said. But right now I need you to tell me what’s going on inside you. Did you go for a pregnancy test?” “Sipz, don’t worry about any of that. You’re leaving me and whether I’m pregnant or not is none of your business right now!”
All that shit talking and attitude I couldn’t deal with so I bounced and went to have a few beers down the road. When I got back I never checked on her. Selfish, I know. But I really wasn’t trying to hear all that pregnancy bullshit. The next morning I realised that Tsholo is not at the crib anymore. She had packed half her clothes and her room was in a mess. She eventually came to pick up the rest of the stuff with Mr Cheque-book watching me like a hawk. To this day I don’t know if I’m someone’s father out there…

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