Aaaahhhh… lovely, lovely December.
The holidays are here and with them come the shameless gluttony and mindless pursuit of pleasure that’s characteristic of the end of days. I don’t know if it’s the new year on the horizon, with its promises of a fresh start, or the waning days of the old year, the last kicks of a dying horse, but for some reason December is the one month of the year when foolishness is not just permitted, it’s expected. This is the month I can wear sequins to the disco and no one will ask me why I’m subjecting them to torture of my reflective clothings. This is the month you can get shit faced drunk and make out with the accountant (ideally at your staff party) and the following week she’ll still pay you, plus a bonus if you were a gentleman. This is the month you can drive into the city centre at 1.00 pm, on a weekday, and find parking outside The Stanley. This is the month you can go to church at midnight and sing a hallelujah, and no one will arrest you, or exorcise your demons. This is the month you can send the kids to cucu’s for a week and they (parents and children alike) don’t hate your ass for the next sixth months. And this is the month, say it with me, this is the month... you can walk up to a complete stranger in a bar/club/coffee shop/church...well, maybe not church... and offer them your (Christmas) present, and past and future if you got game, and you will not be slapped in return. Aaaahhhh...the holidays! It’s like Valentines for single people...
Just in case I’m not being clear, I like Christmas, and for all the wrong reasons.
Today’s track is off the soundtrack to Love Actually, my favourite Christmas movie, if only because its not all happily ever after. I originally meant to put up the brilliant yet horrible Billy Mack
I don't want a lot for Christmas
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true...
All I want for Christmas
Is you...
There's just one thing I need
I don't care about presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true...
All I want for Christmas
Is you...
I’m looking for my Santa, a bringer of joy and giver of gifts of great size, I mean value, great value. I’m waiting for a bugger in red trousers to climb down my chimney and up my tree, put up my tinsel and deck my hall with holly, light my roaring fire and smother my dying embers, make me say, nay scream out, hallelujah!
Did I mention I really like Christmas?
If you’re single, or otherwise unattached, this December, you need to put on your shiniest dress and go hunting, you will get lucky. There are all manner of idiots out and about; (not) disposable cash burning a hole in their pockets; libidos gleefully unleashed from the tyranny of the six day workweek and endless congestion that make up our daily lives; morals at an all time low, either thanks to constant inebriation, or soul crushing loneliness, or the absence of the oh so moral brigade, out of town with their families or spending all night in church. Single people, this is our time to run this town! See, while the philandering bastards are all off playing happy families, and therefore no longer skewing the market against you, and the greedy gold diggers and senseless party chasers have run off to the coast to follow or lose their money bags, the city is left to the ones with no (evil?) plan. Odds are if you meet a fellow singleton wandering the streets aimlessly on December 24th, they’re loose and looking for a plan, any plan, especially a plan in shiny dress like yours. Season of goodwill and cheer, no?
You’re not buying this are you?
The problem with us mature single people is that we refuse to see the silver lining in the clouds of our lives. Odds are you’ll sit at home moping, because all your couple friends are off having brilliant couple holidays and basking in their love, this while your pathetic behind is stuck watching Bridget Jones (or The Expendables for the gents amongst us) for the umpteenth time, singing along to Celine Dion’s ‘All By Myself’. Now look here people, it doesn’t have to be this way. This is no time for staying home alone, you need to get your sexy ass off the couch and into a suitably sexy number, and then wander down to a well decorated room filled with lovely strangers. I promise you, you will find like minded individuals looking to lose themselves in a holiday fling. That’s right, I said holiday fling. What’s that? You say you’re not on holiday? Just because you haven’t left the city doesn’t mean you’re not on holiday, it’s called a staycation (google it). You don’t need to go to Lamu to meet a hot stranger, just try a bar/club/coffee shop/church...well, maybe not church... a different one from your regular haunt. Spread your wings, my lovely, and experience all your city has to offer you, now that the traffic is finally light enough for you to wander about aimlessly.
I have to throw in a disclaimer here, at all times keep in mind that despite the fact that you’re at home, it’s still a fling. Come January do not expect that man to morph into your boyfriend, or that woman to start washing your socks. It’s a FLING, yaani short term, yaani pleasant distraction. If you can’t handle the thought, stay home with a good book.
You’re looking at me funny. What now? No, I’m not advocating fungas this festive season, a holiday fling is not a one night stand, it’s simply a condensed relationship, with hook-up to break-up lasting no more than two weeks. Think of it as extreme dating, or dating on a clock. The only expectations you should be harbouring is the expectation that it will end, sooner rather than later. With this in mind, you might want to stay away from the delusional types looking for everlasting love at the counter, or at the bottom of the wine glass, those buggers will not be very understanding when you disappear on January 3rd. I’m just saying, if someone calls you their soul mate, run and don’t look back. I know this for a fact, no? And what if you meet someone worth more than a fling? Then you had better make sure they feel the same way before you go any further. You don’t want to be the idiot pining after the girl you met in December, in June , six months later. That’s not romantic, it’s just pathetic.
I have a sneaky suspicion I will get some form of hate mail for this one, either for not treating someone’s religious holiday with sufficient reverence, or for advocating (mild) promiscuity, or simply for my dodgy sentence structure. That’s just fine, free speech and what not, but I will not be making any apologies. Dammit, people, singletons have no special holidays whatsoever, surely, surely I say unto you, surely we’re allowed a couple of weeks of shamelessness? Folks, its time for us to take this city back and run this bitch!
You…
And you and you and you and you…
Fair warning to all, this month I’m on only one track, and it does not lead out of the sewer.
