Friends In Low Places. The African Prequel.

   It’s been roughly two years & I’ve been unable to shake off my girlfriend, either she knows something I don’t or I’ve been outdone in the world of stubborn behavior.

   All in all it’s landed some solid gold getaways and until we both run out of friends to visit.

  A few months in to this relationship and we’re bantering over beers in some pub that looks like every other pub on that side of town with a different wing or wine night & she’s going off about how she’s got a friend in England she’s been to visit like ninety-three times or something and has some friend who used to live in New York & went their a bunch of times and this and that. So far I’m nodding off listening to stories about fish & chips and time square. Then she spits out the words “… ohh and my friend so & so who lives in Bermuda…”.
 Like a kids who blocks out all the things there meant to clean up, yet manages to catch loud and clear at the end, the words “cupcake if your good”. I’m officially hooked onto all of the forthcoming sentences.
 I quickly cut in, “so who’s this friend and how often do you see her?”
  She replies, “Ohh my crazy friend so & so and her boyfriend have been their for a while thou I’ve never been”.

She keeps talking, I hit my Expedia app & within seconds come to the realization that it cost less to fly to Bermuda then it is to fly almost anywhere else within Canada. I like our under populated space thou it makes cheap flights unheard of . Within a few weeks we’re booked to Bermuda with a stopover in Toronto to see a bunch of my buds from when I used to live their and a friend of hers from school.

  Bermuda was the kind of place you go to ride sailboats and drink wine in white cotton shorts, cave swimming and watching glow bugs mate to death are something to see!

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 Back to this one.

 Same scenario, different pub, same wing special, different night.
 I’m running my mouth about all these great places I’ve been to & how great they are and on and on & I mention that my friend from Johannesburg emailed and asked when the hell I was going to come and visit. This wasn’t the first time she had proposed the same question.
She then backs up the conversation a few steps…

 “You have friends in Africa?”
 Me: “Ya we used to party together when I lived in Toronto”.

 The same scene plays out again and she’s all over me about how I’ve got a friend their and I’ve never even been once!
 Currently I see no way of making this happen and dismiss this plan for another year, basically going against everything I ever talk about and the ability to make going anywhere a possibility.
 Bad attitude Kix, bad attitude.
 With my bachelor lifestyle, ever changing place of income and almost zero current responsibilities I’m making a tough rebuttal.
  I think it takes the school teaching, mother of two who’s building a house exactly three weeks to completely revamp her schedule, make sure her 1st two kids and the 31 others she’s moulding are covered and even packs in a 3 day wedding in Vegas prior to departure. Even my best B.S. was easily outdone here, I’m fresh out of excuses.

 We book two round trip tickets, 1 ½ of them are paid for on points. Four days in Dubai, twenty-six in Africa and it’s just a few days till lift off.
 Turns out I’ve got two other buds in Dubai who are going to look after us and I feel more justified for booking date night at the only seven star hotel in the world. The Burj Al Arab.
  I’m still accepting gift cards if anyone has any unused ones???
 His might be where the Whiskey drowns and the beer chases the blues away and mine might be where the Wineries are abundant and lions chase the gazelles away, thou me and Garth Brooks both know it’s best to have friends in low places.

  Next week I’ll let tell ya if seven star drinks taste better then cheap whiskey…