I went to so many places today. It was one of those interesting days that don’t come around too often, where you have so many different experiences, emotions and frames of minds it’s almost dizzying.
It started off with going to bed at around 05h00, in a dressing gown in a 5 star hotel bed. They were throwing a wicked party, this hotel, and when I could see that their open bar was getting the better of me, I managed to get a room, for which I am eternally grateful. I actually only got to it at around 3, and into the bed itself after 2 hours of chatting.
With the chat-mate having departed, I was left with my now smoky party clothes and a chilly winter night. So I donned the fluffy white dressing gown – thank heavens for small mercies in 5 star establishments!
4 hours later, sleep no longer possible, I acknowledged my throbbing head and dry mouth with some water. I got back into bed, flicked on the TV and spent half an hour watching animated cows named Ben & Otis and an animated rapper mouse sing in a barn. It was remarkably captivating.
After a shower and checking out, I found myself driving in circles in Green Point, struggling to decide where to get a greasy breakfast to absorb the traces of bubbly and vodka. I finally decided on a spot in Mouille Point, where the seeming inability of the staff to bring a requested glass of water was not really helping my headache much…
Nonetheless, internally greased, I lowered the roof on my chariot, and headed home for a quick nap. This was, however, quickly replaced by trying to find a lost child. I struggle to sleep during the day, even if I’m exhausted, so I figured that turning pages in the world of kidnappers and cops was a better idea. It’s not the best book, but it’s very readable, and I was quickly engrossed in the story of a mother trying to find her son while the police think she is cop-killer.
My pre-set alarm went off just after noon, and an hour later I was 20km away in Muizenberg, interacting with theatre patrons. Not only do I love working with money (I could count coins all day!), but to sell tickets and programmes to people coming to support amateur theatre is very rewarding, especially if you’re part of a fun team making sure we have plenty of laughs. Everyone was coming to have a good time, so combined with the sunny weather outside, everyone was in a great mood – and there was plenty of good natured bantering going on.
Next thing I find myself back with the kidnapper and killer-mom, back in my bed desperate for nap before the evening’s activities. She gets her kid back unharmed and I fade out into la-la land.
The cellphone alarm yanks me out of a dream that I instantly forget. I know it was interesting and quite involved, but I can’t remember anything except funny hand movements (I think…). I’m not very good at remembering dreams…
And just 20 minutes later I’m at a traffic light, roof still down, Edith Piaf’s “Non, je ne regrette rien” playing loudly. It’s a piece of music that makes me particularly happy and makes me smile involuntarily. And a piece of music that makes me car conduct. This is when there is a small orchestra sitting on your dashboard, not far from the CD player, which you need to conduct. One or both of your fore-fingers become the conductor’s baton, and you’re really feeling the music in your whole being.
And the cars next to you, of course, are either quietly amused, or pretending to ignore you, or driving so far forward at the intersection that they can get away from this madman as quickly as possible when the lights change. But hey, I’m living the moment, and loving it.
Not long after that I have moved from the French tunes to German cuisine – we’re having great beer and sausages with potato salad at the German place in the Waterfront, and catching up with great friends.
Next thing, I’m sitting in the dark, in disbelief. Hands in front of my face, not quite believing what I’m seeing. This interspersed with the occasional belly laugh, before moving back to incredulity.
That is what Brüno does to you. The movie of so much hype and so little taste. No one is safe.
I like playing devil’s advocate myself, stirring a little from time to time to get a reaction out of people. Blurting out that which is least expected. It’s gotten me into an embarrassing, awkward or regretful situation on occasion. But this is just so in your face offensive. It’s quite a good social commentary though, and that may be part of the reason why it is so uncomfortable.
Followed by more sedate coffee mocha and people watching, I now sit at home writing this to the strains of Putamayo’s “Mali” cd in the background…
All in a day… the places one goes 🙂