Friday Night is party night

Summer is approaching rapidly here in Jozi and with it all the nymphs crawl out the woodwork clad in precious little blessed by Aphrodite's magic make-up-wand. The mating ritual is as old as god himself and more primal than most care to believe.

Dusk falls over the city on a Friday afternoon, the brilliant sunset a pleasant scene after a week of hard graft. The city's children scrabble frantically, planning and anticipating the nights adventure and the hope of finding a potential mate. The game is simple, the game is primal, the game is the only human motivator.

The preparation is extensive, the male must work hard at a career to front the success that may one day prove him a provider to her offspring. The female is to look her best and be fit and healthy to bear the fruits of his loins.

It's Friday night at the club and it's show time. The young and nubile flaunt while the males strut. Cautious glances across the dance floor. Sip. Hissing cats and cockfights will determine rank, Sip, and the rhythmic music entrances. Sip. A mass of bodies now moving as one on the ritual grounds, we are all exactly where we want to be; playing the game and drinking, drinking the sweet nectar that will relieve us our consciences and accountability.

A lingering stare is my signal to initiate approach, brave from drink I walk over, planning anticipating, hoping... We exchange names as we try to talk to each others desires, words seem meaningless as the match is already made. It's time to pair off...