The Driver fetched The Kitesurfer and me (it’s not The Kitesurfer and “I” in this case, Mum) from the Fresnaye Heights dinner party on Friday night at about 23h30 and was given a fresh instruction, “Wadda Bar please, driver. That’s in Claremont. And let’s get some AC/DC cranking, otherwise these 13 Harman/Kardon surround sound speakers are nothing but a COMPLETE FUCKING WASTE OF TIME!”

The Driver negotiated Head Road as we took some dinky bottles of Moet out the car fridge and sucked them through a straw. I put in an sms to my man at Wadda Bar…

“Daddy Cool is en route for his debut. Please prepare the door – Seth”

“Everything is arranged, Daddy”, came the reply in under 45 seconds.

“They run a slick operation, these Wadda Boys,” I mused.

“Back in Black” worked well upon arrival, as red ropes dropped at the entrance to Wadda. I didn’t know what to expect and only looked up once we had been ushered through the entrance area, across the dance floor and up the staircase. I looked over the railing and across an ocean of smiling faces. “Oh my fuck,” I politely exclaimed.

A pride of angels

A young man approached the bench as I ordered our first round.

Nodding his head, he quipped, “Seth Rotherham……. it’s about time.” He seemed aware of, and was no doubt referring to, the fact that this was my first time at the establishment.

I was impressed.

“Indeed, I have been slack. And for that I apologise,” I replied as I rewarded him with a tequila.

A generous group of the most gorgeous angels had assembled around us by this stage, as we stumbled into the VIP area and joined forces with The Personal Jukebox and last week’s Safe House guest, The Hooker. The Personal Jukebox informed me that they had already played the crowd pleaser – Roxette’s “How Do You Do” (I see you comb your hair, and give me that grin…it’s making me spin now, spinning within….before I melt like snow, I say hello – HOW DO YOU DO!)

Fuck, it’s sick!

Wadda Bar – they finally got Falkor smashed

We played so nicely. I cannot remember exact moments, but I know that some time was definitely spent on the dance floor and I’m pretty sure we left with a couple of angels (little black G-strings don’t just APPEAR on the Safe House lounge floor on Saturday mornings). God, I’ve been getting so much action these days – ever since I watched “The Secret”. That movie has changed my life!

With so many blank parts of the evening to fill, we’re gonna HAVE to return to Wadda quite soon. Stunning little angels, pumping tunes and some slick bar action is a pretty good recipe for some hot action.

I can’t remember your name, my baby, but I’ll bring that little black G-string with me next time if you want to introduce yourself and get it back.

Seriously, I don’t remember your name.

I’m not being a dick.

I’m not, my baby.

I’m TEASING, babba! OBVIOUSLY I know your name is Tamryn!

Tamsynne, sorry.

Oh shit, sorry………TARRYN!

IT’S NOT TARRYN?!

HUH?

WHAT?

SAY IT CLEARLY, YOU FUCKING COW!

God! It’s not like you’ll be able to reply when you’ve got a snooker ball in your mouth.