(Some background info: The advertising agency that I'm with is called publicaddress: and every so often we let our hair down and have what's called a "PAPU" - Public - Address - Piss - Up, pronounced "pup-oo".)
Last Friday we all decided it was time for a papu so we closed shop and headed for any spot in Umhlanga that did jager-bombs and had a great view of the beach. Sadly for Jane and I (the only 2 girls in the group) the boys thought that the place this time would be the lifesaver's club right on the beach... And yes! The view of the ocean was awesome...
... But when you turned around to face the bar again, this is what greeted you.
No.
Not gonna happen. Don't get me wrong. I like "quaint and quirky". Quaint and quirky are cool, but Melville Quaint & Quirky. Not Durban Quaint & Quirky as this often includes plastic chairs and tables. Again I say, no.
So a couple of whiskys later we packed them off to another spot just up the road that didn't smell of surfers and pee, ordered a few snack baskets and more booze... And before we knew it Mark (Jane's boyfriend) was rolling around on the ground doing who-knows-what...
... And I was slurring some junk to Wayne's very sober, very pregnant wife. (Blind!) I'm a demon when the booze kicks in. It's all or nothing for me! Go large or go home, - that's what I say. (I like to blame my bad behaviour on an alter-ego I call "Carmel" my evil twin, but really it's all Carmen, all the time! It's bad!)
Shot publicaddress: for the awesome papu. I don't even want to see what the bill looks like!
I'll be OD-ing on liver tablets for the next few weeks...
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