What’s in a little Saturday night razzle you may ask? A few drinks, a bit of dancing and a chance to play catch up with your friends after a busy week surely? Alas how misguided one can be when you throw tequila shots and a certain Durban hotspot to the mix. And so begins a tale about life at 4am…
If the last few weekends have taught me anything it would certainly be to insist on the razzle being a Friday night and use Saturday and Sunday for recovery time. Being 5ft in nature and quite the girly girl it may come as a surprise that I can hold my drink down as well as any male but it seems I’ve pushed the boundaries one too many a time and my little head has since divorced me.
Last Saturday night’s run of events left me feeling quite the same way yet it was oh so fun… Amongst some of the more memorable moments of the evening was an encounter with a group of Bluff jocks followed by drinks with a friend who brought a no-holds-barred gay counterpart along to provide some endless entertainment for the night.
This then brought my club experience to an end and lead me to profiling various characters at the Engen garage while stopping for a quick fuel up and water bottles. Who knew this little visit would assist in aiding hangovers and providing endless material for jokes about the evening’s tales.
There’s all kinds of people out and about at the Engen, and it seems life at 4am is rather entertaining. It ranges from the boozed up yuppie crowd couple sneaking in for a refill on cigarettes and Red Bull to share after having spent most their night on the downstairs dancefloor. Then there’s the type of people that half an hour ago were seated in the VIP room of their favourite weekend haunt deciding the two-seater couch was an ideal location in consummating their relationship. In the words of the public, “get a room”!
The Engen visit also included the appearance of the lonesome popping and locking B-boy, who requires a little less pop and a little more locked up. This particular type will enthusiastically grope you on the dance floor or give a quick pinch as you pass by as they sadly believe that is what all the girls are really after. They sneak into the Engen with their ghetto swagger and deliver winks and glances as they proceed to the Quick Shop. A real keeper.
Next up is the tween group of somewhat socially challenged critters who truly believe their best chance for a date lies in a cheesy pick-up half way between the cig counter and the magazine aisle. Better luck next time boys…
Then there’s the dear guy who somehow throughout the course of the night lost his shirt and who made us wish he hadn’t, the guy who thinks he has a high tolerance for alcohol yet is found sleeping like a toddler at the back of the car and the groupie girls who profess to know the DJ and show this by never leaving the DJ box until said 4am for a quick stop at the garage. Which brings me on to that group of girls who spend most of their night planning their FB profile pics while the night passes them by who continue with their pic taking even after leaving the club.
And last but not least is the Sylvester Stallone’s of the night where when given a mere glance as you walk by they start with their “Do you know who I am” lines and usually end with a gay-calling slur.
My advice to you? The next time you’re out and about and the clock strikes 4am, be it amidst a bustling VIP room at a local hotspot or early birds tweeting while you munch on a Breakfast in Pita at Engen, do yourself a favour and merely observe life at 4am. You won’t be disappointed…