Okay, so the familial Christmas holiday has been booked. And in the wake of our most glorious surprise sojourn, the destination has been decided: Cape Town. I'm insanely excited about languishing on the beach with a trashy novel in hand, while The Daughter builds sand castles and catches little fishies with her cousins.
And I'm excited to know that I will be experiencing, again, the sheer oral pleasure of eating fresh oysters at Willoughby's. And also, that I'll be a stone's throw away from some of the finest wine farms in the world. And this is where my problem lies.
You see, a year ago, I found myself in Stellenbosch for some or other reason. The CT Hairdresser and his Then Boyfriend took me out to dinner. With a Straight Boy in tow (how thoughtful). Well, it wasn't all that thoughtful, really, since I'd just struck up a quasi-relationship with someone else - a relationship in which I'd been misled to believing actually held a future.
And so, in spite of learning Straight Boy both worked and lived on a Boutique Wine Farm, I resisted his wily charms.
We shared a long evening, did Straight Boy and I. And many a drink. And so my texts home to The Boyfriend followed this pattern:
23h47 - Just finished dinner. Going out for one drink. You're the raddest.
01h57 - Miss you!!! Having one more drink then going home.
03h06 - Onm my waaay home.
03h34 - Just got home.
04h06 - K. For real. Am leaving noow.
And because I'd actually meant the 'I miss you's and the 'You're the greatest boyfriend alive's, I was unshakable in my commitment to The Boyfriend.
But it was hard:
The Pant: Shouldn't you be hitting on girls your own age?
Straight Boy: I don't like girls. I like women.
TP: Well, this woman has a manfriend.
SB: You look particularly unattached right now.
TP: That's because my partner (I could never quite get my mind around referring to a middle-aged man as a 'boyfriend') is in Jo'burg. Pining for me (how wrong could I have been?)
SB: Exactly. So, he'll never know if you sneak around the corner and smooch my face off.
TP: I thought you wanted more from me?
SB: I'll take what I can get.
TP: How about a dance?
SB: You know what dancing leads to?
TP: Sore feet?
And so Straight Boy and I partied, and we threw excessive amounts of cane in our faces. But I was steadfast in my decision to remain faithful.
Fast forward one year: The Boyfriend: axed, The Pant: in Stellenbosch at boutique wine farm. Unfinished business between Straight Boy and The Pant. So what did I do? I facebooked him.
The Pant: I cannot aptly express my disappointment at having driven all the way to Fancy Boutique Wine Farm, to have sat through an hour explanation on why the grape does what it does albeit delivered by a particularly hilarious coloured woman, and no Straight Boy. :(
(I actually used an emoticon - these youngsters communicate in faces these days.)
His response was immediate. If not disappointing:
Straight Boy: You come all the way to Stellies and you don't even tell me. I'm with CT Hairdresser. He said you leave tomorrow. Would of (sic) loved to see you. X (Capital kiss, must smaak the pants off me.)
Anyway, so here's the problem: Would it be too weird to forward booked holiday details to Straight Boy and say something along the lines of, "I regret not tucking into you that night so long ago. Could you kindly remain single for the next 8 months, because I'll be in the area in December, and I think we have unfinished business. Regards, The Pant."