Every where you go...
Ahoy there my fine friends. How long has it been since our last time together? I'll tell you, too long. Exams and holidays have wrought a great divide in the Cobras camp and I just have no idea what my fellow brethren are up to.
Currently I sit, laptop on lap, staring out to sea at a very calm and peaceful Jeffreys Bay. Chronic times if you get my vibe. While at my house things are certainly rather chilled I cannot say the same for the rest of this town. If I were, in fact, to describe this place to you in one word it would be: HEAVY.
This place is the heaviest place on earth. No jokes. I went out to the local vibe last Friday, Sovereigns, and was blown away by what I saw there. Picture this. The first floor, yes there are numerous floors, is covered with slot machines. At those slot machines sit the most decrepid and unfortunate souls I have ever encountered. We're talking 40- 60, fat MOUSTACHES, balding hair and thick, ugly tats. And those were the women. Ithankyou. Also lining the walls were the photos of old Springboks. Not legend ones, kak ones. Like Andre Vos and players of such calibre. I overheard one patron ask the bar lady/ thing for one TSALAMARI and TSITS. Calamari and chips essentially. At this point I could not handle it any longer as I had far too much of Waz B's finest and simply burst out laughing. No one thought this amusing though. Let's go up a level shall we....
Second floor is where the jol happens. I'm talking heavy rave with a strobe light that will ensure a epileptic if you're in there for more than ten minutes. Gruesome. I might add that there were some very toit 18 year olds running amok but I was having a hard enough time coming to grips with my surroundings to be worried about throwing in the proverbial spade. Oh, and there was this old oke who was so pissed that he could not walk. I am not fucking around but when the oke tried to move from the bar he simply just stood, waving his arms wildly to find something to balance on. Like I said, HEAVY.
Let's go up another level. Level 3. C'est bizarre mes amis. This place had posters f four wheelers and off road tracks with the odd poster of Ghapi the siffest Afrikaans singer everto exist. If I knew how to post pictures I would cos this shit is hectic Anyway there were a couple of pool tables thrown in for good measure with the muck chick behind the bar insisting that we be very careful, and how experienced were we. I could not believe my ears, this bird should have given me the pool cue and a blow job because they need all the business they can get. Also and more importantly there were some very heavy tunes being blasted out on this level. Why play the same tunes as the rest of the club when you can separate them and play worse music? That place should be imploded.
I've just come up with a better one word descripton for that place. TAPPED. Those people, that place and that vibe were extremely TAPPED.
So there you have. My JBAY experience thus far. Good times I must say. I'll catch you cats for a bit of 'nadoes, bru.
Until then, always take the weather with you...
