Damp squibs and dummies

First of all, let me come out and say it – that HIFA opening show was shit. My gosh, I’ve never been so bored. I mean, they did what they do well … but all that opera classical choir shit was not what they usually do on opening night.

Secondly, there were a few interesting moments. Like, when the scantily-clad girls were rubbing (dirt? flour? baby powder?) over themselves limb by limb, then doing a boob-out bend-over dance-type movement, then repeating? Interesting.

THEN they started rubbing said mystery substance over EACH OTHER! Yes, there were scantily-clad dirty girls rubbing MORE dirt on each other. Like my mate said, if that ware oil we’d have had a hell of a show.

Thirdly, and most importantly, some people are fecking arrogant. And yes, I mean white people. We showed up at the venue 45 minutes before the show was gonna start, and took up a standing position behind the last line (in a sea) of garden chairs. And promptly attacked the Robertson’s Sweet Rosé.

Some late-comers came into the park and placed their chairs BEHIND us, then had the audacity to ask us to SIT DOWN when the show started. You wot?

Listen, you four rows of white people in camping chairs, it’s not my fault you came late to the venue. I’ve been standing here for 45 minutes, what did you think was gonna happen when you put your chairs down behind us. You think this place is for chairs only? feck right off.

So yeah, one aggressive guy with an accent came from behind us and demanded we sit down, and I told him firmly “no”. There were some mutterings, and I told them it’s their fault they parked behind us.

The arrogance, it fecking burns.

Anyway, we had an early night cos some bastards tried to open the Mouse’s car doors at the 7th Street robots, luckily her doors were locked and she sped off through the red light.

This could be a different conversation.