New Year’s on the Town (Cape Town That Is!)

I arrived at my hotel in Capetown, a little dazed from the events of the night before I and wondering what South Africa had in store for me. Well, starting off, the hotel said they didn’t have my reservation but the hotel had been booked for months. I tried to stay composed as I asked to speak to the manger, but I was terrified. This couldn’t be happening!  What would I do, and on New Year’s Eve, no less. Luckily the manager found a room for me, but said I still had to pay out of pocket. I considered myself blessed that I had the money to pay. I walked to a convenience store, bought a pack of cigarettes, and a phone card and started a series of call to Orbitz Customer Care to settle the situation. An hour later, with the situation resolved, I settled down to rest and figure out what to do with my night.

Nothing fits. I’m fat! I was having anxiety problems trying to figure out what to wear. I didn’t have that many options anyway. I finally threw on a black halter top and pants, did my make-up and walked down the street to a club called Cubana. I paid the admission and headed straight to the bar. I was apprehensive – here I was, in a new city by myself, at a club by myself, hoping to have fun on New Years. Everyone was there in groups. I had no place to stand, no one to talk to. I felt extremely lonely even though I was in the midst of people partying, dancing and laughing. I was hoping that getting drunk as quickly as possible would help me loosen up. The bartender was cute: tall, chocolate colored, with what looked like a perpetual smirk on his face. He made me smile. I ordered two shots of tequila and a Heineken. I slid one of the shots to him, raised my glass and we drank together. I ordered another shot, smiled flirtatiously, and walked off feeling warm and thinking the night may have some possibilities.

I walked around, danced but still felt like I needed more to drink. I went back to my same bartender and asked for two more shots. He flirted, saying that he would fix me a real drink for New Years and that he would be the one giving me my New Year’s kiss. Oh really? I took him up on his offer, coming back to the bar 5 minutes to midnight. He started putting together an elaborate show of glasses stacked on top of glasses and multiple liquors mixed together. The people at the bar started looking at us. The DJ started counting down. 10! 9! 8! He lit the drink on fire and poured in the last shot. I drank the liquid fire to the cheers of the patrons at the bar. Drink, drink, drink! 3! 2! 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! Cheers went up. People clapped. Couples kissed. I looked over the bar at the bartender like where is my kiss? He quickly came from behind the bar, grabbed me and kissed me like the rest of the club didn’t exist. I swooned – partly from the alcohol, the rest was from him.

I partied hard the rest of the night, dancing everywhere, flirting with white boys. I left and walked down the street to the gay bars. I sat down and starting chatting, drunkenly telling some of them how cute they looked. Sometime during the night at Cubana, I had gotten a hold of a pink feather stole and gay men constantly kept coming up to me telling me I looked FABULOUS. I met a fag hag, a 50+ lady who seemed to know every gay man at the bar. We talked about her dress and together we cussed out a druggie who came up to beg a cigarette from me and then told me to fuck off. I ate a hot dog from the man selling hot dogs on the corner. I danced in the street with people I didn’t know. In otherwords, I had a great time! I finally found my way back to the hotel and fell into bed around 5:00 AM.

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