DINNER WITH THE CERTIFIABLE

I always feel sorry for new kids on the block. Especially if you’re joining a dinner party of ten Cape Town people. Our reputation for being cliquey is world renowned but speak our language (wine) and we’re your NBFs.

That doesn’t mean to say get hammered before you meet us. If I’m the newbie, getting sh*tfaced before I meet ten people in a very smart restaurant is pretty much a no-no. Getting hammered with ten new people in a very smart restaurant is a friggin must. But on Saturday night this little newbie got it all wrong.

Drunk woman: HI! NICE TO MEET YOU!
Me to Housemate: Why is she shouting?
DW: SO I SAID TO HIM AND HE SAID TO ME AND THEN I SAID TO HIM. F*CK I DROPPED AN OLIVE.

In an attempt to change what I could see was going to be a discussion on olive dropping, I asked her what she did for a living.

DW: OH MY GAAAAWWWD DO YOU THINK THEY WOULD NOTICE IF WE STOLE A BOTTLE OF WINE FROM THE CELLAR?
Me to Housemate: Is that a job?

One swift kick from The Wine Merchant on my right answered my question as a no. As I looked around to see if any of the eight other dinner people were noticing the drunken carnage that was newbie at the head of the table, all eyes were focused on her as she discovered a secret cupboard in the room. It was in fact a passage to the kitchen but drunk newbie thought she was in her own secret garden and was clearly delighted judging from the drunken shrieks that were emanating from behind the wall. The Wine Merchant closed the door behind her which I thought was a bit harsh and when she started bashing the door down, we pulled the cabinet open before she shattered everything in it. She was followed by a really pissed off looking chef who asked us if we could control our friend.

Me: She’s part of a social outreach programme.
Another swift kick came from my right but to be honest if this chick was unaware that her top five buttons were undone and was now staring at the ceiling saying ‘It’s so hiiiiigh’ I doubt she would notice my little chirp.

DW: BUUUUUUUUUUUUUGLETT CAN I HAVE SOME MORE WINE PLEEEEEEEASE.
Me: It’s Baglett. And you poured most of it on your plate. Maybe try decanting.

Me to table: Any chance of shoving her back in the cupboard?

No swift kick from anywhere since all eyes were now on Drunk Woman who now didn’t look so drunk, more mentally challenged. She was now laughing, shouting and pouring her plate into her glass.

While everyone left the dinner horrified, I secretly can’t wait to have dinner with her again. She makes me look so good.