Chapter 10 - Nolwazi

The Tyhume River Hotel is wall-to-wall over thirties. Zanele is babysitting the hot girls at the concert, and we are in here doing the codesa and the kwasa kwasa to Brenda Fassie's "Vuli Ndlela." How times have changed. The crazy thing is this song is so old, the generation before me was dancing to it in this same hotel while I was still in primary school. Céline will probably still be dancing to it when she's here and a fresh crop of hot girls are at the concert. The more things change, the more they stay the same. This song is a classic, though. It gets the people moving and the blood flowing.

"So this is where all the old folks are," Rori says, surveying the crowd soon after we arrive. "I wondered."

"Let 'Sister Bethina' come on," I threaten. "You'll see who's old."

"I need to have a word with the DJ and make sure that's not in the mix. The Springboks can keep that one. No one wants that geriatric bump and grind."

I punch his shoulder. "Wena. I'll show you geriatric. I guess you weren't serious about Zanele then."

"Hayi, she can get it." He brushes an imaginary moustache. "I do not discriminate and will smash on a case-by-case basis."

"You should be so lucky. Zanele is not thinking about you."

"After I serenade her with a full Eddie Zondi set, she'll be begging for it. The ladies love Eddie Zondi."

"I have second-hand embarrassment for you at the mere thought of a serenade. Please say you're joking."

"I know how to make a panty drop."