The Joooly round 6…

The reason for this extremely late report back on one of the Durban social scene’s finest outings can be gleaned from the previous article. The Vodacom Durban “Joooly” as it has affectionately become known once again didn’t disappoint. Fears that the event wouldn’t deliver due to the fact that after parties at the track would be shut down at 9:30 and patrons would have to move to Panama Room or the Millers/Tilt/Reel Productions (I can’t keep track) tent at the cycle track abounded. However, festivities continued well after the advertised cut off time and when we did eventually move on, there was just as much fun to be had… The usual highlights were there…friends with picnic sites and tents, angels looking their absolute best with cleavage as far as the eye could see…Things just don’t get better. I decided not to take part in the naked race this year. After my near win and consequent R500 bar tab at Tiger in 2005, I can’t seem to summon the commitment again.

I involved myself in the betting aspect of the day more than in previous years, partly due to the fact that this is the first time I haven’t attended a 21st the night before and hence arrived at the event before 3. I finished the day having lost money. Not a lot but it’s the principle of ending down, a position I am not used to. The interesting thing is that I am not the only one to blame. Who else would be the cause of my misfortune? None other than my domestic worker, the ironically named, Happy. You see, 10 years ago Happy had a vision. She told my parents to put everything they had down on a certain horse. They humoured her and said they would but when the time came they obviously didn’t go through with it. The horse ended up winning the race. Happy told me this story to weeks before this year’s event and I told her that she was to inform me of any subsequent visions. Sure enough, as I was about to head down to Durban for some Kings Park (I still refuse to call it the ABSA stadium) rugby, my little brother slipped me a piece of paper which simply said “1 and 13 swinger”. This was the oracle’s vision. She knew about swingers. Amazing! What about trifectors and place accumulators? Was she really a clairvoyant or simply a race punter keen to get back in on the action? I had my doubts.

After a Sharks victory and a bit of a catch up with some of the Aspen housemates on the Friday night, we made our way to Greyville. I had butterflies in my stomach I was so excited. This excitement however was stunted when I perused the race card and realized that the chances of number 13 getting a place were somewhere in the region of 99-1. I busied myself with some other bets and decided to put just a small amount down on “the dream.” Now this is the freaky part. Horses 1 and 13 came in 1st and 2nd in the race 6 but neither placed in race 7, the main race. So close and yet so far. I was not the only victim of this misfortune as many others had heard the story and, wanting to be part of an incredible tale, had put money down themselves.

Anyway, no use crying over spilt milk. I nearly found myself crying over a lost phone though. This years Joooly seemed to be home to as much criminal activity as the Zimbabwean parliament. One girl had her purse and phone stolen in two separate incidents and the bouncer at the Millers tent was shot after a minor scuffle earlier in the day. Extreme. Back to my story. I was walking through the thick crowd from one tent to another when a guy tapped me on the shoulder and accused me of bumping into him a few metres back. I protested my innocence and attempted to walk off. He tapped me again and said I should be more careful then he grabbed me by the shoulder and the belt and said I could get into a fight. I pushed him away and started to walk off but as I dropped my hand back to my side it brushed my pocket and I realized my phone was gone. I knew it was this little fucker straight away so politely asked if I could have my phone back as I looked down and saw it in his hand. Cheeky bastard. He apologized as if he’d stood on my toe or something and just handed it back before beginning to stroll, not run, off. I couldn’t believe the audacity so delivered an extremely cheap but thoroughly deserved right to the back of his head. I can only imagine that the ring I wear on that hand had something of a knuckleduster effect as he dropped the floor. I glanced around for security but saw none so I walked off, bumping into a group of girls as I turned who looked at me as though I had just been involved in an unprovoked racist beating.

All in all, another eventful Joooly from which I eventually left in a taxi with four 20 year old girls. Lovely…