I went out with a friend last night. Several weeks ago, he was in a serious car accident that he was lucky enough to walk away from. Judging from the picture I saw of the wreckage, he must be related to Spongebob Squarepants, because the car ended up looking like a crumpled tin-can with mirrors and rubber trim. He’s recently bought a 4-wheel drive idiotmobile as a replacement and I can certainly understand the rationale. Life is too short to waste on sensible family sedans, if you can afford something more interesting. He took me for a spin in the new behemoth and spent most of the time showing me how bright his spotlights were and thereby nearly precipitated a number of nocturnal road-rage incidents. If you were on the M3 last night, I apologise on his behalf.

We’ve known each other forever, but we’ve lived in different cities for many years and only recently reunited in the Mother City. While we don’t have any secrets, as such, there are still things that we don’t know about one another. I found out for the first time last night that my good friend is total dirty dog.

The conversation turned, as it inevitably does, to women. Ex-girlfriends, in particular. When we were younger, he always managed to have an attractive girl on his arm, whereas I suffered long periods in the dating doldrums. It was years later that I learned his secret*. It is interesting to note that this worked a little too well for him sometimes:

“You remember so-and-so? She was nice. Why did you two break up?”
“She dumped me”
“Yes, I know that, but what was the reason?”
“I slept with her sister”

* You just ASK, for crying out loud! Of course, it doesn’t work every time and there’s the occasional slap in the face (actual or metaphorical) to deal with now and then, but you can’t win the lottery if you don’t buy a sodding ticket.


14 thoughts on “Caesar

  1. That secret is out. I read a feature in the best men’s magazine, Arena (it’s British and the title does not have variations of “Sex that will make your neighbours complain” on EVERY cover) about this very subject. An average looking writer set out to conquer pretty woman.

    He went up to all the pretty girls on the street, bars, etc and just started talking and then asked them out. His success rate was something like 30%. Now most of us would take a 30% success rate with the hottest girls any day.

    Turns out, all he need was the excuse of writing the article to start talking girls.

    It should be compulsory homework for guys at school.


  2. My sister and her boyfriend were hit by a drunk driver last week saturday – they are both very lucky to have gotten off with the minor injuries too. I am going to see her tonight before she goes back home. Of course the other driver was not hurt – murphy!

    Funny, two of my boyfriends dated my sister – not at the same time though. Thats probably why I never slapped either of them. haha, though I was the one to dump them – hehe.


  3. I’ve always envied those who are thin-skinned and/or confident enough to approach anyone as I’ve realised that it’s that ‘courage’ that works for them so often. Some of the plainest, ordinary-looking guys walk off with the hottest people simply because of that gutzpah.

    I’m usually too shy and/or lacking in self-confidence to use that approach. Correction: ALWAYS too shy and/or lacking in self-confidence. For me, the fear of rejection is just as bad as the fear of failure – one of life’s worst traits if you want to succeed.


  4. That was you on the M3? You guys looked like insects on speed. What you need to do is buy a 30 yr old Chevy, and cruise around at 20 km p/h, with your elbow out the window and the Johnny Cash blaring out. Works in Bloemfontein.


  5. IITQ:Strange how things that should be obvious, sometimes aren’t.

    banquo: There seems to be a lot of that going around. I’ve also dated an ex-girlfriend’s sister (not at the same time, though). It didn’t last, because it was a bit too weird for both of us.

    andrea: The Chitster? Never! (I don’t think so, at any rate)

    paintingchef: Certainly is.

    nomad: That’s a tough obstacle to overcome. At the end of the day, nobody really cares how badly you dance, so you might as well get up and dance.

    anne: Elegant simplicity, like Nature itself.

    livewire: And understandably so, Cap’n. At least he didn’t open the sunroof and blast the traffic with his stereo.

    scott: I’ll be sure to remember that. In Bloemfontein, that is.


  6. There is a great saying in Afrikaans, and it goes like this:

    Die lewe is soos breiwerk, eers as jy klaar is sien jy hoeveel steke jy gemis het!

    Never be too shy to approach girls, they want you to approach them!


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