A BOURBON DREAM

A warm and pleasant Sunday to you all. I know for sure that mine is. It’s sunny, cloudless with just the right amount of draft wind; absolute perfection. And it’s in this welcoming and pristine environment that today’s story will be coming from. I don’t know, there’s just something about the easy wind and gentle sun that just makes a story just want to jump out of me. Anyway, to the story.

So it was Saturday afternoon and as tradition, it was time for our monthly brunch with Ian and Anne. Hmmmm…Ian and Anne…their names have this old school vibe about them. They also always seemed a bit odd to me from the very beginning, and slightly out of this world. But that was them, and they knew how to do it really well. Plus, there was absolutely nothing old school about them at all. However, one thing that was for sure was the fact that they were the kind of friends you wanted to have around at any time.

Now Ian and I met in high school, I was the troubled self expressionist who found an outlet through putting on a wig during drama and acting out Lwanda Magere’s beautiful Lango wife’s betrayal(I’m gonna say it was daddy issues or something and stick with that story…haha), and he was the pumped iron rugby player who got to tease me the loudest during our rehearsals. It’s strange how crude and constant insults as well as physical violence are the foundation of almost every dude’s friendship. The worse the emotional and physical pain inflicted, the better the chances of an ageless brotherhood or something like that. So yeah, it was the most unexpected yet slightly disturbing start of a meaningful friendship.

Anne on the other hand was the biggest pain I had ever met. And I mean this in the most polite way possible. Now I may come off as unkind for saying that, but if you met her and lived to tell about it, then you’d have a lot more unpalatable descriptions of her yourself.

So we met during music festivals, I think it was provincials to be exact.(What were we doing in the music festivals? Well long story short, lots of lying and sneaking away on the pretext of being the new additions to the Bass1 ensemble…don’t ask…high school shenanigans) Now I obviously won’t divulge the names of the schools…by now you know my preference to mystery. Anyway, she was gorgeous, five foot five, veeeery long jet black hair, and she was the only soprano1 who could solo without a microphone, and as you can guess, my boy Ian was doing his own version of “transposing”(Now take your time…no one gets a music joke on their first try…haha)

But every golden jewel has a golden ego, and hers was tried through fire and heated up to a gazillion. So in short, she was being all “baby sucrose”(High school slang…yeah I said it…deal with it *drops mic*) on every dude who approached her. Now here’s where I say that the two are out of this world. Somehow Ian managed to grab her attention even though she was flocked by everything with pants around there(Notice how I over-exaggerated there…haha…no offence Anne…I still love you to death), managed to sneak her away, get her number, feel her up a bit and even know the names of the last six boyfriends she had(I mean really). But they seemed to be cut from the same thread; she loved to talk about herself in this shrill baby voice that I couldn’t stand and he got to let her sit on his lap while she did this, so it was a win-win┬ákind of situation I guess. But i realize now that i should have been talking about the brunch…hehe…my bad. These two get to steal the spotlight even on my post.

So it’s Saturday afternoon, my place, oh and I cooked of course. My famous egg sandwiches with some lemon juice for appetizers, followed up with some pilau(Which everyone I know goes nuts about) and a side of kachumbari, and finishing it off with some good old-fashioned white wine(Phahahahahahahahaha…I almost got you there…white wine…classic…more of coke; its way cheaper). But of course with Ian and Anne in the scene, this was quickly followed up by a six-pack and lots of loud banter and gyrating which I feel will be rather inappropriate for this post(Thinks about whether to divulge details)Yeah…i’d rather not say. Which makes me think that maybe i should reconsider my choice of friends(Hmmmmm)

This then moves to a fight about how Ian is a player and always checking out other girls, and how Anne is high maintenance and loose. Thereafter follows loud name calling and eventually they break up. A few beers later they’re dancing so close that I’m sure a baby was just conceived somewhere in all of that.

But what’s absolutely interesting is how these two crazy kids get when they reach tipping point, and they’re both so high they can barely speak, and Anne starts talking in this creepy deep voice, and then all of a sudden, they just instantly become sane. I mean they literally stop being all over the place, and they hold hands and cuddle. They won’t even make out or anything, they’ll just sit there in each others’ arms and just stare into blank space giggling and smiling. And Anne leans into Ian and he on her, and I swear it is the most romantic I ever get to see them. Of course that’s until it wears off and Ian starts laughing uncontrollably and Anne blacks out after discussing politics with my cat(Such model citizens aren’t they).

Yet somehow every month these two teach me more about relationships than I would have learnt in a whole year. The fact that there’s always all these bumps that will come along. You’ll argue and disagree, but in all of that you should always still be in it┬átogether, at least until one of you is blacked out and the other start laughing randomly at every fly that passes by.

So now that i need to clean up after these big hangover babies, in the spirit of none of you having a Saturday brunch like this…haha, Stay faithful and drink responsibly. Until next time I bid you adieu.

Cheers!

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