The Good

I slept for 15 hours on Friday / Saturday.

The Bad

I spent the weekend in the company of an ex-boyfriend.

The Ugly

I have food poisoning.

 

After finishing work with Daddy on Friday evening, I dropped Angel off at Scouts and bought myself a perfect Chicken Mayo pizza from Pizza Perfect before heading home.

Whilst theirs are the only pizza’s I’m able to digest without a handful of Buscopan, I’m horrified at how their prices have increased. I had to fork over R69 for a large, and let’s face it – that only feeds one person. Had I known how expensive the meal for one was going to be, I’d have rather headed to Food Lovers Market for a Sushi platter which is only R59, and just as filling.

Nevertheless, with no kids to feed [Star still staying with our old friends] I decided to treat myself, and after devouring the pizza; I made a bed on the couch and watched Season Two of Entourage. Actually, Vincent Chase and his crew watched me, as by 21h00, I was fast asleep and absolutely dead to the world. Until 11h30 the next morning. And with no alcohol or drugs to induce the extended slumber. Heaven!

On the subject of Entourage – Turtle [played by Jerry Ferrara] is the spitting image of my ex Mi Amor. Especially when he smiles, it’s quite uncanny how alike they are. Just add a strong Cuban accent and it would be Mi Amor to a tee. And I’m referring to the chubby Turtle as he was in the beginning of the series, and not the slimmer version Jerry is now. I haven’t actually thought about Mi Amor in ages, but with the SWC on our screens, I will admit to reminiscing about our times together at the last World Cup. Just some useless information for you.

Once Angel had returned home on Saturday afternoon, we headed over to Mix and Co, as she had been Whatapping me non stop from Friday night asking us to come over and spend the weekend there.

A little bit of a history lesson. As I’ve previously mentioned Mix and I go back to the early nineties when we were [and there really is no better word for it] groupies for a South African band; following them from gig to gig on a weekly basis. In my defense I was 18 years old and really didn’t know any better.

After several months of stalking, I became involved with one of the band members [he was the bass player and backing singer] it didn’t last very long and soon thereafter I hooked up with another band member … Two years later a Star was born … and the rest is history.

Anyway, Suits – the bass player – and I remained friends over years. Although it was a strained friendship at first, due to my subsequent marriage to one of his band mates; and, it was later established, the guys were related. Not first cousins or anything as incestuous as that; but possibly 3rd cousins twice removed. Whatever that is.

When the Sperm Donor and I divorced, his family turned against me, quite violently at that; however, Suits and his parents and siblings took my side as they knew very well what a monster they distant relative was and so at least I had them in my corner.

Suits left that particular band and joined one of SA’s top rock bands. After a success jaunt in the US and Europe, he was fired from the band due to his drug problem. Not to say the rest of the guys weren’t taking drugs, because they all were – but they still managed to keep their act together and pitch up for gigs and not let the rest of the band down. Suits unfortunately would binge and disappear for days at a time and so when they returned to SA, he was booted out and tail between legs, joined another cover band.

By this time I was long divorced, and Suits came to stay with us until he could get back up his feet – cos hey, that’s what family are for.

Until one day I returned home from work to find my video machine [that indicates how long ago this was] gone. Along with Suits.  It didn’t take a genius to work out that he had stolen my property in order to purchase coke. I contacted his family and boss of his new band to let them know and once he turned up, he was put in rehab. The infamous Houghton House.

He spend several months there and came out supposedly clean.  Naturally I refused to have him back in the house, as it was easy to forgive him for relieving me and Star of our only video machine, but not so easy to forget. So he went to stay with his new band managers.

A few years went by, and he seemed to have his act together; and somehow he ended up living with us again. At the time I was self-employed and had several company cars that I permitted staff to use when they needed.  Suits was back in a good band and needed transport to get to gigs, and so I gave him the use of one of the CitiGolfs.

All was fine for several months, and Suits was a contributing member to both society and our household. It was lovely having adult company [obviously I was single at the time, because no man is going to permit his woman to have an ex living with her!].  We would often sleep together; as in doze off on the couch watching movies, not the hanky panky kind – although I will admit that in the previous years that we were friends, there was an occasion or two that we would forget [or would it be remember] our history, and land up in bed and on top of each other]. But during this tenure of him staying with us, our relationship was strictly platonic.

Until …

Suits didn’t come home from a gig. The next day I phoned his band manager to attempt to locate his whereabouts, and I was informed that he hadn’t been at the gig, and they too were looking for him.

Deja vu.

To cut a long story short – he was found about two weeks later; and in the interim he had sold my car to Nigerian drug lords in Hillbrow in lieu of money he owed them.  Getting my vehicle back is a story on its own – we’ll get to that exciting saga another time.

Suffice to say that I cut Suits out of my life after that incident and made it clear that we no longer friends, let alone family and when mutual friends [or family] so much as mentioned his name, I would zone out as I did not want to know anything about him.

Anyway, to finally get to my point – guess who is staying with Mix and family? None other than Suits. Mix’s husband has a two man band that play at various venues around Joburg; and because they’ve worked so well together in the past [they also go back 30 years and actually grew up together] Mix’s hubby wanted to give him a chance as he has spent the last few years on the bones of his backside.

Their arrangement is that Suits stays with them the day prior to any gig, to ensure that he won’t be MIA when they need to perform The rest of the time he stays in some dodgy hellhole in JHB CBD.

And so, I had to come face to face with the past.