Meet this month's featured couple, 
I’m dating a very sexy, beautiful 29 year- old woman: my girlfriend Amy just celebrated her birthday. This fortunately, or unfortunately, coincides with payday for me. So, I do what every self respecting gaga- over- her- girl girl would do- I start planning the birthday to put all other birthdays to shame! First off- you need to understand the history of November 25: In 2008, I officially put her engagement ring on her finger on this day. It wasn’t the first time I proposed, however. That was done within 10 minutes of meeting her (Q: what does a lesbian take to a second date? A: A moving van. LOL!) I gave her a promise ring within a week, but I also told myself that she would get all the fuss of a “straight” engagement—asking of her hand in marriage, diamond and sapphire ring and party at Spier, because, why the hell would I give her any less just because we’re two girls??? This year I had to haal uit en wys yet again, so I called The One and Only to find out if we could eat there, without having to a) mortgage our house b) sell essential body parts c) live on bread and water for fifty-seven years. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised!
So we drove up to this beautiful place, and it hits me- this frigging place has VALET PARKING. This is a problem. In front of our very reliable, fuel efficient, Japanese hatchback is a rather large, shiny, German automobile. And the awesomeness of the vehicle doesn’t quite justify it being called a car. In fact, all of the machines ahead are automobiles: German, Italian, English and Swedish automobiles. And we are here in a car with two z’s in its name. Can anyone say ‘instant L. S. E’? And to add insult to injury, this is a surprise supper right? And Amy didn’t know she had to wash the car, right? And we live near the beach, right? So the car is just a little bit dusty, right? I’m so not feeling alright about this giving my car to a strange man, even if he has all his own teeth. But give the car we must, and the valet is from the Plain, so he laughs about my day old pie on the backseat. And I feel a bit better…
This place is so damn spaffy it doesn’t have a hostess, it has a concierge. Oh Lord!
But sit, we do. And eat we do. And my darling wife has never met a prawn she didn’t like, so that’s her main, er, entrée. And I may be sitting in the place Mariah Carey eats at, but I’m still a Spur gal, and I order the steak. I even call it the “fill-ay”. (Amper soos regtig. Ek ken oek van aansit!)
And we eat, and we laugh. And we had so much fun that a German couple came over and joined us for a chat. And I wowed them with my superior linguistics (Gutten abend. Wie ghets ihnen? Danke gutt. Jahwhol! Impressed? No? I tried!). I enjoyed myself so much; I had good wine (Buitenvewachting Merlot 2006 (Thank you, thank you Pick ‘n Pay and your wine appreciation training!)) good food. And the best company I could ever have asked for… but I know, even if we’d gone to KFC in Town Centre, she’d have been happy, and I’d have enjoyed myself just as much!
So we drove up to this beautiful place, and it hits me- this frigging place has VALET PARKING. This is a problem. In front of our very reliable, fuel efficient, Japanese hatchback is a rather large, shiny, German automobile. And the awesomeness of the vehicle doesn’t quite justify it being called a car. In fact, all of the machines ahead are automobiles: German, Italian, English and Swedish automobiles. And we are here in a car with two z’s in its name. Can anyone say ‘instant L. S. E’? And to add insult to injury, this is a surprise supper right? And Amy didn’t know she had to wash the car, right? And we live near the beach, right? So the car is just a little bit dusty, right? I’m so not feeling alright about this giving my car to a strange man, even if he has all his own teeth. But give the car we must, and the valet is from the Plain, so he laughs about my day old pie on the backseat. And I feel a bit better…
This place is so damn spaffy it doesn’t have a hostess, it has a concierge. Oh Lord!
But sit, we do. And eat we do. And my darling wife has never met a prawn she didn’t like, so that’s her main, er, entrée. And I may be sitting in the place Mariah Carey eats at, but I’m still a Spur gal, and I order the steak. I even call it the “fill-ay”. (Amper soos regtig. Ek ken oek van aansit!)
And we eat, and we laugh. And we had so much fun that a German couple came over and joined us for a chat. And I wowed them with my superior linguistics (Gutten abend. Wie ghets ihnen? Danke gutt. Jahwhol! Impressed? No? I tried!). I enjoyed myself so much; I had good wine (Buitenvewachting Merlot 2006 (Thank you, thank you Pick ‘n Pay and your wine appreciation training!)) good food. And the best company I could ever have asked for… but I know, even if we’d gone to KFC in Town Centre, she’d have been happy, and I’d have enjoyed myself just as much!
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