Not that I am suddenly drowning
in cash, but Nellie is a romantic and there are certain
things that I just know will impress the hell out of her.
For example:
Although she has been living in Cape Town for almost twenty
years, she has never been to Robben Island.
Nor has she ever been on top of Table Mountain.
So, the plan was, cable car to have breakfast
on the mountain, then the ferry to do the whole Robben Island
prison tour thing, and maybe an early dinner at sunset at
a quaint place by the sea.
That would be exactly the kind of thing that would make
her fall in love with me again for a whole week.
Then I got the news.
Robbie Jansen’s funeral is on Saturday 17 July.
Those of you who know my history will understand
that there is no way that I can not go to this funeral,
and Nellie understands.
Nellie is extremely understanding in some instances.
But that did not deter me.
For days I thought long and hard, puffing frantically on
cigarette after cigarette while checking mails, making calls,
negotiating with booking agents for international stars,
while at the same time trying to secure suitable venues
in Johannesburg, Durban and Cape Town. Puffing. Puffing.
Then it hit me.
Vaudeville on Saturday night!
Nellie has wanted to go to Vaudeville for a while now.
That would be the perfect treat.
So I called to make a reservation.
‘I’m sorry sir’ said the voice, ‘we
have a corporate function on Saturday 17th.’
Oh my fok.
Wat nou?
Surely I can’t simply take Nellie
to a funeral for her birthday?
Maybe I should try and sell taking her to
a funeral as, if not the most romantic birthday treat, certainly
the most original one that any man has ever done for the
woman he loves!
Uh uh.
Daai gannie werkie.
