Saturday, 18 May 2013


You know how sometimes you're having so much fun you don't realize that you're actually somewhere kinda nasty? Liquor is usually involved on those occasions. And good friends. That's a key ingredient.

So last night, I strolled past a neighbour's home and heard laughter coming from the garage. That alone might not have caught my attention, but it was followed by the unmistakable sound of wine glasses clinking merrily. So I employed the secret, elaborate neighbourhood code ... a good thump to the garage door ... and it opened magically to reveal my neighbour and a friend I haven't seen in a year because she's been working in Jamaica. She had just returned and, true to form, launched immediately into making the reunion rounds. (Turns out I was wrong about the wine glasses. They were drinking overproof vodka. What, you think I'd have teetotalling friends? You have obviously not been reading this blog long enough!)

After hugs and "omigods!" were exchanged all around, I pulled up a chair and a glass and joined the reunion. Within minutes, there was another tap on the garage door, and then another, and this visitor had had the sense to bring a fresh bottle, so things soon got very festive. Then the host turned on the stereo and it turned into the next best thing to a nightclub ... if they had nightclubs with cement floors, concrete block walls, unfinished ceilings, a freezer in one corner and lawn maintenance items everywhere else. And a dog sleeping in the corner, periodically getting up and sniffing everyone's crotch. 
By George, I think I've just come up with a brilliant idea for a nightclub! 

What's that? You'd like to come in and join the party? Well your crotch will have to pass our strict security check first . . .