WTF? Shutup.

I love a good fight now and again and have been known to cause one just for the fun of it. But I particularly enjoy it when I’m able to use big words that confuse the crap out of the person I’m fighting with, thereby confusing him and then I get my own way. On Saturday however, after copious glasses of champagne, my vocabularly consisted of very few words, mainly ‘shutup’ and ‘WTF’. Combined, make a great phrase of ‘WTF?! Shutup.’

The day did not start off well, when, having promised The Wine Merchant that the venue I had chosen would have so many flat screens he would think he was at the game, was the opposite.

Having taken two hours to get ready, we arrived half an hour before kick off to find the place heaving with SA supporters and two lowly, very brave Lions supporters and all the flat screens I had promised were already being used by people who didn’t take two hours to get ready. We managed to join the rest of the crew who were crammed in the corner and if you tilted your head left, so that your ear was embedded into your shoulder, you just managed to see the screen. He shouted ‘WTF?’ And I shouted ‘Shutup’.

When we were awarded the penalty in the last few seconds of the game and I was celebrating with The Housemate, The Marketer and various others, I got it into my head that it was imperative that I join my boss who was down the road celebrating with his mates. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to see my boss per se, but I wanted to share the elation I was feeling which was tantamount to what I was feeling when we won the World Cup. And for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why The Wine Merchant didn’t share the same sentiment.

Me: Why can’t I go?
Wine Merchant: Baglett, you can’t seriously expect me to let you leave me to go spend the evening with your boss.
Me: I can. You spend time with your boss everyday!
WM: At work Baglett, at work.
Me: Well I work on Saturdays now.
WM: Baglett, you are not going to spend the evening with your boss and that’s that.
Me: I would let you.
WM: Would you Baglett, would you really?!
Me: Totally.
WM: You’re being absolutely ridiculous, now shutup.
Me: WTF?! I’m leaving.

With that, I said goodbye to everyone, announcing I had another important engagement to attend and with a final dagger look in the Wine Merchant’s direction and a dramatic turn of head, I headed out the door and walked to the parking lot.

Only to remember I didn’t have my f*cking car.

Considering calling a cab which take an hour and taking into consideration the temperature of
-10, I was interrupted by a call from long-suffering The Wine Merchant.

WM: Baglett, get back inside, it’s freezing.
Me: What are you talking about? I’m halfway there already!
WM: Baglett, I can see you through the window.

I turned, mortified, to see that there was only a pane of glass separated the parking lot and The Wine Merchant.

Admitting defeat I walked back in.

WM: WTF Baglett?!
Me: Shutup.