I DID IT AGAIN

I couldn't find one roadblock this weekend. I even made my driver go on a roadblock hunt. Not a sausage. Why play with my emotions like that traffic department? Don't throw out words like 'blitz' when the closest I came to a roadblock was a cop on a bicycle cycling in the middle of the lane blocking the traffic behind him. You forced me to stand outside The Local while I blocked Mrs Greek and the BFF with an old stick and arrested them for drunk walking.

While the weekend was fairly quiet, I did go on a date with The Lion King. It was an evening of fine wine, sushi and me making a complete tit of myself. It started off well, I was entertaining him with my witty repertoire which consisted of me telling stories while he said polite things like 'Yes you've mentioned that before', 'Yes you've told me that' and finished my sentences for me. Screw dignity and pride, my memory loss is becoming a big worry to me.

I received an sms from The Neighbour which needed a follow up call and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I placed my bag on the sink and proceeded to chat to The Neighbour for a good ten minutes. What happened to good old fashion taps that you turn on yourself? While I was babbling to The Neighbour about the importance of call backs, my bag was doing a swimming pool impression and I looked down to find my make up drowning and screaming for help. While I gave my cosmetics the kiss of life and held my bag under the hand dryer for half an hour, I put a call through to the Lion King explaining the situation. He was kind enough to act as if this was a normal thing, he even acted as if I was normal.

The evening went pretty much downhill from there. As I regurgitated yet another story he had already heard, I lent across to hug him to further animate my story. Pulling back I noticed I had so kindly left a nice big smudge of foundation on his crisp white shirt. Awesome. We both stared at it while I blamed the waitress. After I had made the smudge worse and drawn blood by scrubbing it with a napkin, we decided to leave. My sandals are not made for walking on slippery surfaces, they're barely made for walking. In slow motion, I turned to him to thank him for the evening and he watched while I slipped and fell harder than the rand against the pound.

He still keeps trying to see me. I can only assume he's on a recruitment drive for the circus.