On the prowl for warmth and fun, but not for masihlalisane

Vusi Nzapheza Straight & 2 Beers
If anyone has Mshoza's number, please tell her that the R1-million is ready but she must keep her knickers at her place.
If anyone has Mshoza's number, please tell her that the R1-million is ready but she must keep her knickers at her place.
Image: Veli Nhlapo

On account of the dropping mercury in Gauteng, I decided to migrate north. The chill hasn't been kind to my surgically denounced limbs.

It is for this reason I settled in Phalaborwa a week ago. The weather has indeed been kind but I can't say the same for the reception.

I'm nestled at the foot of the Kruger National Park, the scene of the 14 lions that reportedly escaped two weeks ago.

This one-horse town has been a culture-shock to my Jozi fast-lane existence. On account of the rampant monkeys and wildlife, we are encouraged to keep the windows and doors closed.

There's hardly a soul on the streets and I'm positively bored.

I ventured out one night in hopes of painting the town red. I landed in a bar of a five-star lodge and ordered a beer. The bar was teeming with guys huddled around the snooker table. The bar lady was kind enough to assure me the girls would be coming in shortly. When they descended, they looked woefully like the age group I have sworn not to poke.

The bar lady told me they were from a college nearby and they frequented the lodge on the hunt for sugar daddies. Not my scene. More so since they travelled in packs. I knew from experience that unless I intended to end up with a three- or foursome, I risked landing with a duck when it was time to go home.

Like hyenas in the Kruger, I would end up with a pack raiding my fridge and expropriating my groceries without dishing out.

Despite one of them making eyes, I cautiously played a game of billiard and called it a night.

I remembered how I frowned upon sugar daddies who frequented my campus when I was at varsity, and I couldn't see myself prowling college molls.

The next day I drove to Namakgale township to have my car washed. While my jalopy got a valet service, my roving eye was on seemingly single women drivers who also came to have their wheels waxed.

It didn't take long for my trap to catch.

She briefly gave me the lowdown of the town and how everybody knew somebody. She works at one of the two copper mines and knows the kind of places I am looking for. It made sense when I suggested I drop my car at my retirement village. Unlike Mshoza, who wants a man to have R1-million before sending her a WhatsApp message, my quarry had no qualms.

The night was still young and indeed fun was had.

We ended up at my apartment in the wee hours. Phalaborwa suddenly held a lot of promise.

The next day we went crocodile sighting at a river safari. We took a ferry on the Olifants River and we asked abelungu to take pictures of us as we cuddled.

The trouble started four days later when she showed signs of wanting to move in with me permanently.

It is one thing that she left her panties hanging in my bathroom, but it is completely another to bring her whole wardrobe.

How to get out of this conundrum?

I had planned to stay at my furnished apartment until summer, but circumstances have forced me to reconsider.

The last thing I was looking for was a masihlalisane.

The weather in Joburg is still cold but I have no choice but to cut my sojourn short.

If you have Mshoza's number, please tell her that the R1-million is ready but she must keep her knickers at her place.

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