How I met the perfect vleis
This is a story about how I met the perfect vleis. Its not you normal story, its one of immense perseverance, patience, determination and sheer......luck. It was mostly luck and free booze. But nonetheless I emerged victorious with the most attractive bird vleis you'd ever seen coming straight off that charcoal grid of 16 year old braai laarf.
So lets get to it. I was at a chommies 16th birthday part, doing my usual "act kif" stint in the hopes I would look cool to all the other participants of said jol. It was working for the most part, at least I thought it was which was really all that matters. Fast forward some dops and I couldn't believe my very unsymmetrical eyes (have a lazy eyebrow from rugby, that's a story for another blog post), THE and I mean THE most amazing bird rocked up on what can only be described as a 1940s tin can with wheels that was trying really hard to be a scooter. She was wearing a beanie for a helmet, which told me all I needed to know about this incredible, high achieving, strong, aspirational, amazetits woman being.
I scoped her out for what seemed like ages and eventually, once I had accumulated enough Wellington VO dutch courage, I made my move. I slinked up to her like a semi creepy puff adder of the night, and promptly asked "Howzit going?". To which she retaliated with, "I'm thirsty". Never before had I poured a drink so fast and with such precision. Upon delivering this cup of epic awesomeness I was promptly, and without mercy, given the almighty Lance Klusner English Willow Bat.
How could this be? I did everything right? Surely my ancestors would not let me down so? I was down but certainly not moer toe. I waited a bit before striking again. "Enjoying the party?", there's no way this second attempt would fail to kick start the the conversation I was aiming for. It was a flawless approach this time. Absolutely no creepy and the smoothness of a night adder on steroids. It was not to be however, as I received yet another prelude to devastation in the form of "could I get another drink?" Surely Odin would not forsake me a second time. But as I delivered the next round I was once again introduced to the almighty English willow.
Broken.
I went outside to save whatever dignity I had left. I was in utter disbelief that I was this unsuccessful after having launched 2 near perfect attempts snagging the perfect bird. I decided to admit total defeat and head home, to drown my sorrows in a late night gaming session of DOTA and a 2 liter bottle of coke.
Just before I left, a mutual acquaintance of myself and the perfect bird approached, and inquired as to whether my previous engagements with the specimen were at all romantic in nature. To which I replied, "I thought they were, but apparently Lance Klusner didn't think so." To which she said I should try one last time, gave me a sneaky wink and walked off.
OBVIOUSLY I DID!
Fast forward 23 years I am still awe of this perfect bird. We also now have two perfect hatchlings :)
Hell yeah.
