The sanctity of the safe house following a weekend at the Rocking The Daisies Music Festival is something quite moving. I snuck down to Camps Bay for a swim (which was heavenly) and am now safe from all harm. Ok, so, I have finally experienced my first music festival and I can report that I am absolutely FINE with them!
Mr Tweedie was able to balance mini sax players on his head
We were a little bit gay and stayed at a guest house in Darling which was 15 minutes away down a dirt road. Granted, it’s not a very ‘festival’ vibe, but I am quite partial to down duvets and very much doubt that anyone who slept at the fest was presented with a wrapped chocolate and a sprig of lavender on their pillow as they got into their tents at night. When we returned to the festival on the second morning I also noticed that the venue was lacking baths on legs – something I was afforded at the Darling Lodge (which was great but they seem to suffer from the classic cock-up of only making toast AFTER the eggs are served. For God’s sake people! Is this really a difficult concept?!).
In terms of the success of the festival I can report that it was unbelievably professional and slick, which went hand in hand with a band lineup second to none. This is something that is going to grow and grow every year. Well done to the organisers – you outdid yourselves. Absolutely brilliant – there were even restaurant tents (including Royale Burger, Rafiki’s, Noodlebosch (outSTANDING noodles AND sushi!)) as well as retailers including Hemporium, where they have a very clever way of making you buy things. They basically vaporize your money (merci, Tony). Seriously though, everything was there – bars, snack shops….the works!
In terms of the music, everyone did great. Besides our favourites, The Dirty Skirts and Goldfish, I must say I was also particularly impressed with the Parlotones. Keep that shit up, guys – highly entertaining. Oh, yes, The Rudimentals were fucking brilliant as well. That was pretty much when everything kicked in. That was also when I ran into Gabbi for the first time since I met her serving at the main bar earlier on. But we’ll chat more about Gabs later.
I think in terms of the weekend, everyone will have their own particular memories and stories. Some of the stories you hear will be the same – like the story of the two very clean blonde women who had a full on cat fight in front of the main bar tent on the first night. It seems the sweet nectar that flows from the Montevino wine dispensers had taken it’s toll! It’s so hard to stop once it touches your lips. Anyway….stunning stuff, girls! Love to take you home to meet Mum.
But then, at the same time, something equally as astounding was carrying on right in front of us. There was the guy that spent the whole night pulling this girl who, bless her, was not in his league. Not that he was in the A league, but he could definitely do a LOT better than this young big-boned lass. He was totally and utterly legless and apparently had no idea what he was dealing with. The classic ‘beer goggles’ were in full effect. Shame, bless her, she was in her element as she could feel herself stepping up a league. So he was pretending that she was hot and she was pretending that he wasn’t absolutely fucked beyond belief. They were performing for the entire main bar tent, standing up, under a spotlight. Quality stuff. I went over and had a chat with our boy. The girl was next to him, chatting to someone else. She couldn’t hear me.
I said to him, “Hey buddy, I don’t meant to be rude, but you just HAVE to be made aware that you’re not exactly playing out of your boots right now. Have you had a good look at the chick you’ve been scoring under the spotlight in front of everyone?”
He looked at me blankly and, although his hamster was moving terribly slowly inside his head, his expression showed signs of understanding and agreement.
“Do you realise that other chicks have now seen what you’ve been doing and now assume that you are in the same league as this chick?”
He was starting to communicate now and with a slow nod, he mustered, “I know”.
“I’m glad you understand me cos this is a very important lesson for you. Not only will other girls think they are out of your league, but other chicks in THIS chick’s league will start to stalk you. All big girls will know that they can get action from you. You will become a banker for big girls.”
“I know”, he repeated.
“The next think you look around and you won’t have realised that you have moved down two or three leagues”
He was now saying “I know, I know, I know” constantly whilst I spoke to him.
I continued: “I mean, Jesus, bru, have you had a good look at that?” (I motioned for him to have a look at her shitter).
“I know, I know, I know, I know.” (nodding at the same time now)
“Hey?” I asked, angrily.
Still nodding and repeating his “I know” chant, he spun on his heel, didn’t say a word to her and walked off into the darkness- NEVER TO SEE HER AGAIN! I swear to you! He vanished!
Unbelievable! I saw our boy the next day and told him how fucking lucky he was that he didn’t go any further with her. He thanked me profusely and said that he couldn’t believe how badly he had done. We couldn’t bring ourselves to discuss what might have happened if he had woken up next to her.
Someone else disappeared….. Aaaah, yes! The angel from the main bar, Gabbi. Where did you go angel? I didn’t mean to freak you out. Honestly, I was just teasing when I asked you where you “see us in five years time”. That’s a pity, angel! I didn’t even have a chance to see what you look like in the morning, sober.
So there you have it. Pretty hilarious! All except that one guy. Why do you behave like that, bru? It’s not cool at all. You come up to me and say hello. I smile, shake your hand and introduce myself. I talk to you. We chat. I make you laugh. Then you come back again and I make you laugh again. And again. And again. And you don’t leave me. I politely indicate that I need some time with my friends. You don’t get it. Until I had to make it obvious to you. And then you got all weird and psycho and spend the night swearing at me everywhere I go. Do you realise that that is exactly what stalkers do? Don’t you find that kind of behaviour a bit odd? You should watch other people and see how they behave in social situations. It’s very different, you’ll find. Were you bullied at school? Or………maybe……. just maybe…… YOU were the bully at school?
Aaah!
Enough about that. I got back to the safe house today and it looks like some little boys and girls were playing very nicely over the weekend. I thought there had been a murder but then I noticed that someone had spilt red wine on every step, the whole way up the stairs, past the safe house, up to a door on the third floor.
I thought it would piss me off but found myself laughing. I mean you have to be PROPERLY pissed to do that!
La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la
