A Side plate for Every Dish

The Beginning of Their Own Ways. Johannesburg is one of the oldest cities in South Africa with an atmosphere of anything goes and anything can happen here. Littered with commercial businesses of all sorts, from small grocery shop keepers to corporate bankers. Home of the struggling artist, ladies of the night and the rich who pursue them. Home to many immigrants: African, Hindi, Islamic, Afrikaans, English, anyone can be found on the streets of Johannesburg from being nothing to attending one of the universities, be it the University of Johannesburg or Witwatersrand University. At the end of a bustling day, four friends met up at a local pub in Marshall Street as they always did. Paul was always first to arrive. Keeping time meant a lot for him, but how he always met and had friends that were always late did make his accounting spirit sweat under the collar, sometimes causing him to always tap his fingers on surfaces. Paul got to the pub first and got the usual table, a good seat sitting close to the bar and toilets, but not too close and just close enough to the Judebox to appreciate the music and still hear what everyone was saying. Next, Lemmy rolled in or rather twirled. He always had to do a performance when entering any sort of place, because that's what talented performers like him did and people, men, loved him for it and he loved them in return. Lemmy never wore the same outfit all day, sure he knew he was not super model material but he had style. A style for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A style of talking. A style for every performance. Today's style, a tight light brown pants with an olive green shirt with dark brown suede shoes to match his wavy brown hair, hoping today's Robin Hood outfit would be the one that would steal Robert's heart. He greeted Paul with a little wave and a polite smile, "Hello Paul." "Hey, hi", Paul replied absent-mindedly, tapping his fingers on the table, then they walked in. Robert Childs walked into the bar with his wife on his arm. Every woman in the bar turned to look at his handsome smiling face and wished Robert's wife was dead. Every man in the bar clutched their fist wishing to punch his face, but at least he had a gorgeous wife with long raven black hair, the body of a bikini queen, her face average compared to her body, but a taken man none the less. Robert greeted everyone he met as if he knew them from the door to the table, stopping to chat with the waiter, then the bar man and then someone he recognized. His wife eventually marched off on her heels to meet and greet the waiting friends at the table. "Honestly! I don't know why he has to talk to everyone!", sighed the wife, rolling her eyes and sitting down with a huff. Lemmy looked at her, "Hello Debbie darling and how are you?" Debbie scratched in her handbag for something and did not even look up, "Hi." "Hello Deborah, you look absolutely beautiful today", beamed Paul, giving her a light for a cigarette that was dangling from her ruby lips. Debbie looked into Paul's soul with her brown eyes pulling in the fumes of the lit cigarette, "Yeah, yeah." Puffing out the smoke, she blew it straight into Paul's face and he smiled even bigger, tingling everywhere with pure delight. The local pub was old, a picture of what life must have been like in the 1800's. It had patches of what was supposed to be rain water stains on the high French ceilings even though there were apartments or offices above it. The place smelled of damp, dust and cigarettes and was filled from bar to door with mostly a young crowd as its patrons. The music selection was a mix of old and new. Robert loved the pub on Marshall Street and, because he loved it, thinking their alcohol prices reasonable, everyone else had to agree to love it too. Robert finally joined his wife and friends at their familiar table. "Paul! My man!", shouted Robert, slapping the seated man on the back and shaking his hand heartily. Debbie rolled her eyes and shifted her seat to make space for her husband. Then Robert spotted Lemmy with a smile, "Lemmy! Darling, you look absolutely amazing!" Lemmy stood up to greet Robert with a hug, but Robert gave him a kiss on each cheek and one person could see Lemmy melting into the stained wooden floors of the pub. Robert sat down with a smile huffing, "How was everyone's day?" Everyone grumbled, Paul ordered drinks for everyone, Debbie was still smoking and fiddling with something in her handbag and Lemmy, sitting across from Robert, sat staring at Robert's blue-green eyes, muscular jawline wondering how ever could someone be so darn attractive. Robert lit a cigarette, smoked a little, then scanned the room and cleared his throat. "Well, my day was like this... Today is my sixth month anniversary of being a buyer for JL Mining, and guess what, who got a permanent contract today?", Robert started with a broad grin. Everyone cheered the waiter coming just in time with the drinks so that everyone could toast the occasion. Robert continued " Thank you, thank you. I am actually surprised I made it this far since I actually studied music." "We all are", mumbled Debbie, which everyone laughed off as a joke. "No, no. I really, really hate my job. I hate every second of it to think that I could be doing so much more than sitting in my office twirling around my office chair looking at money, silly money that will never be mine. I could be listening to music, composing or compiling." "Then there are bills to pay", added Debbie. Paul wondered how Robert could be complaining. He had been working straight after school for six years. Now he had to do his degree by correspondence and he was still sitting in a cubical at the accounting firm with an annual four percent increase in salary, knowing Robert had earned triple his salary. Lemmy wondered at Debbie that she could be so heartless to a man's passion and obvious appreciation of the arts. Robert took no notice. "All I ever wanted to do with my life was live in music, not be like my dad, a buyer. How boring is that? That's probably why mom ran back home to England. The man has been a buyer for so long he doesn't know how to smile and be stingy! He won't take out two Rand for a car guard. How heartless can you get? I don't want to become like him." "Then how did you get the buyer position then?", asked Paul, ordering another round of drinks for everyone. Debbie answered Paul for Robert, "His father got him the job to pay for the bills." Robert gave Debbie a sarcastic smile. "I see", mumbled Paul, lighting a cigarette, blowing the smoke in Robert's direction, thinking of how he had to go interview after interview for days to get his position at the accounting firm. "Doesn't matter. I'm destined for more! There's more to life than punching numbers for nine hours a day. My mom told me so!", Robert drove his point home, standing up rebelliously, taking a walk to the Judebox selecting one of his favourite songs, ACDC Thunderstruck. "Don't worry Robert! I believe in you! You're a star! You deserve to be a star! bellowed Lemmy in an operatic voice, " Forget these traitors, just you and me, baby!" Robert walked over and hugged Lemmy with gratitude, "At least someone believes in me!" Debbie almost laughed her head off, "Take him, Lemmy! Do your best! That man hasn't picked up an instrument in two years. He's probably forgotten how to play any instrument." Robert gave her a scowling look. Paul laughed. "Oh, why is that again? Remind me...I forgot," lied Paul. Lemmy looked at him irated, "I don't know how you forget all the time Paul! Honesly! You must be dumb or something?" "No. I am not. I am a charter accountant and I work with figures all the time. I'm not in the entertainment business like you two!" Paul barked back. Debbie put her hand on Paul's arm to calm him, "Two years ago Robert got so drunk at a concert he had to perform at he couldn't stand up straight for five seconds. After that, nobody wanted to work with him." "You forgot about the bit where 'he' fell off the stage with a guitar in his hand and almost lost his finger!" Lemmy intervened to defend Robert. "It was this finger Paul!" shouted Robert, flipping Paul the middle finger with a saluting wave and Paul squinted his eyes at Robert. Robert put the middle finger right up to Paul's nose until Paul could make out a giant ugly scar coiling around the finger. Paul gasped, "How did you manage that?" Robert downed his drink with a burp, "Not a clue. I was drunk as a skunk. I actually think someone put roofies in my drink." "You wish," Debbie rolled her eyes. "If only I was there to rescue you." lamented Lemmy, resting his chin on his bent arms in admiration of Robert-god with a sweet smile. "Then you would've missed your debut at the Civic!" exclaimed Debbie with horror, "You were brilliant in that play. The play was about an Irish cricketer that got arrested for being part of the IRA." Lemmy instantly forgave Debbie everything and went to go sit by her in the empty seat next to her. Robert had gone to the bar for another drink and was cruising through the crowd. "Oh, thank you darling", cried Lemmy, hugging and kissing Debbie on both cheeks, "You just don't know what that means to me now! Those were the days." Debbie looked at Lemmy from under her long black eyelashes, "Business not so great love?" "Tell me about it. Everyday I go for auditions, take the time to learn the bloody script...I actually don't know what my agent does for me or why I am paying that i***t. I always have to call him. Why? People think it's easy to be beautiful and talented. It's not. All this is hard work, darling, it doesn't just happen," proclaimed Lemmy, standing up, giving a twirl, then sitting down gesturing with his hands a box shape to eluminate his facial profile with pouting lips, ending it off with a snap of the fingers, "Nothing natural about that. All hard work." "I'm reading this book now. I forgot its name," started Paul, which made Lemmy and Debbie giggle like school girls. "You'll forget your own wedding date Paul." laughed Debbie. "Not if it was you, Deborah!", Paul answered sternly back. "Stop being stupid Paul! She's already married." huffed Lemmy, "Tell us about your book then." "Huh..oh, right! Well, in the book. The man retired when he was only forty years old, and had a wife ten years younger than him, a multi-multi-millionaire. He had two dads or something. But he has this theory that people don't retire or are rich because they are always working and should have their own businesses rather than work for someone else all their lives," Paul carried on with Debbie and Lemmy at his full attention. For a moment he felt all powerful. Robert must have noticed the attention and returned to the table curious about the topic of conversation, "Hope you're not talking about me?" Smiling Robert took the seat beside Paul. "No, darling, we were talking about my struggling career as an actor. How I can't get a part in any play because I am too fat or too skinny, my length is not quite right. I am either too tall or short, not masculine enough ya-da, ya-da...Wait, I am too old," informed Lemmy with a dramatic cry. "What rubbish!", retorted Robert, swaying a bit, "Just like Debbie. You know she can't find a story in the newspaper that they've moved her to the property development section?" "Thanks Rob!" spat Debbie with a scowl. Robert smiled, "You're welcome." Paul looked at Robert. Robert looked dead drunk but they had all only been at the pub for half an hour now and only two rounds were bought, not counting the beer Robert had at the bar, but that would not have been enough to make him so drunk that he sat there swooning as he did. "Are you drunk?", Paul asked straight away. "Who? Me, never." slurred Robert, "But those girls at the bar did buy me a shooter." Robert pointed at a group of ten girls all wearing barely any clothes clucking up a storm in their own chattering world. "Oh, to be single again..." dared Robert. Debbie met the comment coolly, "Your wish might soon come true." "Nobody likes a pedophile, darling." added Lemmy. "They must've each bought you a shot. Not just one for to be this sloshed!" argued Paul. "A good person Paul! Never kiss and tell", smiled Robert. Robert took up Lemmy's hand, kissing it, "You're not old, beautiful, you're only twenty-five years old." Robert spoke kindly to Lemmy. Tears filled Lemmy's eyes. His cheeks flaming cherry red, Lemmy had to sniff his nose, look away for a moment. "It's true. The sods moved me into the property development section at the newspaper. I haven't heard from any of my sources in ages about leads and if I don't have a story to write or sell. I am useless at the newspaper. The next move is obituaries and then I'll be kicked out." confessed Debbie, stubbing out a cigarette without any mercy, lighting another one. "Why don't you write a book? You're a brilliant writer. You have a master's degree in English?" asked Paul. "With what time, Paul? I have to work to pay the bills, look after the drinks, then at weekends I get the kid from Greg." "Hey! Did you call me a drunk?" interrupted Robert. "Who's Greg? He sounds delicious." asked Lemmy. "The ex" answered Paul and Robert at the same time. Debbie rolled her eyes at them. "What are you going to do?" Paul continued. "Push on Paul until they put me in obituaries, then look for another job. What else can I do?" "Prostitution, with your track record of husbands..." blurted Lemmy out, mischievously putting a finger to his lips. Everyone burst out laughing. Debbie wagged a finger at Lemmy, "I can't help if I'm lovable, deal with it!" More drinks came to the table. For a while there was an awkward silence until Robert broke the ice by turning in his seat to talk directly with Paul, "You've been awfully quiet Paul. Work okay? What do you want out of life, mate?" They have been friends since high school days, Paul and Robert. Paul would have thought by now that Robert knew he hated the term "mate" with a passion, yet Robert always used it around him right through high school. Robert was the popular one with everyone and Paul the sidekick that always tagged along. Paul shrugged his shoulders, lighting up another cigarette, "What every man dreams of! To be a millionnaire, have a wife ten years younger and be young forever." Everyone burst out laughing. Behind the laugh Paul eyed Robert. They had had this conversation a million times before. Why laugh at his dreams? Paul laughed along with everyone because he was a good sidekick, it did not matter that his heart was in a different place to those people. "My feelings are hurt Paulie, you know I'm two years older than everyone here!" mocked Debbie in a fake moan. Lemmy sat up straight, "When you're a millionaire, darling, you could do something about that permanent frown on your face! Botox is the new in thing!" "We all know that Debbie only married me for my British passport anyway and my surname..." blurted Robert. Debbie shook her head at Robert, "No, it was for love. I don't just jump into bed the first time, I just meet any man for nothing." "Paul has frowns on his face from working himself to death for nothing. Are you making millions Paul?" asked Robert. Everyone turned to look at Paul, who sat quietly watching everyone. Paul imagined he could steal Debbie from right under Robert's nose, possess her and do unspeakable things to her that would make her want him instead of Robert. Paul imagined what it would be like to punch Lemmy out and smash his face until Lemmy looked like an elephant. Paul imagined and wondered what people ever saw in Robert. All he had was his looks and charm. He knew for a fact that Robert was dumb, had ADHD and just about scrapped through high school exams. "My salary is only four figures. I get crapped on every day by someone who is a year younger than me. If I don't do something soon to change I'll be stuck in a rut forever" replied Paul. "I've been reading this book..." started Robert. "Where've we heard that before?" spoke Debbie and Lemmy, both at the same time, in a giggle, rolling their eyes and sharing a laugh. "Why don't we start our own thing?" suggested Robert, ignoring any further catty remarks, "Think about it Paul. We could do it! We could be partners. Paul has accounting skills. Debbie had just inherited a fortune from her dead-beat dad. Lemmy could be responsible for entertainment. I have my buyers' skills. I could negotiate and buy the stock..." "What? Open a bar?" asked Paul. "Yeah! Man! That's a great idea Paul! Everyone loves to drink. Did you see how much money was passing at the bar, Paul? Open your eyes." replied Robert enthusiastically. Paul had to agree, "It might work." "It will work if we have the skill. Wouldn't this be the answer to your four-figure salary, Paul? You could earn so much more. Lemmy, you're an amazing musician and you would have a gig every night instead of marching off to every audition hoping for a phone call from your i***t agent. Debbie, darling, job security. You can be a bar maid, a salary guaranteed." "We'll have to hire staff. Who is going to manage the place? We can't all just resign. A business needs to run at least eighteen months to be considered successful. Staff cost money." said Paul. Robert was not moved, "I'll take the bullet for the team! I hate my job anyway, then during the day I can manage the place and at night you guys can help out. It will be tough but worth it. Who's in?" "I am!" cheered Lemmy first with clapping hands. "Might as well say yes, I hate obituaries but I'm not giving up my career dumbo!" Debbie agreed. "What about it Paulie?" asked Robert. Everyone looked at Paul. He had closed his eyes, crossed his arms with his chin resting on his chest. Paul looked up, staring at Debbie, "I'll do it for Deborah and the millions." Everyone cheered and celebrated, so it was decided among the four friends to make their own way in the world by opening a bar. Surrounding yourself with the right people can lead you anywhere. Exploring the Cave. It was a good thing that Debbie was in the property development section of the newspaper almost as if it were an act of fate because she got wind first of when a property was going up for auction or sale. The moment Debbie saw the property going up for auction in Orange Grove she knew Robert would love it. Robert loved the area. It was still in the vicinity of Johannesburg. There were a lot of people in the area from all different backgrounds, a cultural mix that Robert always enjoyed, and they speculated amongst each other at the newspaper office whether the place was destined to be condemned if no one would buy the place, because it used to be a shebeen for betting and the last owner with two employees got shot dead on the premises the auction price was marked low. It was marked with death. Who would be dumb enough to buy the place? Debbie shared the information with her husband. Robert immediately drove to the premises. All he saw was potential, despite the dirt, faulty electrical wires and the bullet holes. At auction time, Robert rounded up everyone he knew or could pay to be there so that the sale looked promising to the auctioneers, but when bidding time came, Robert bid against Lemmy, who acted as a stranger for only ten Rand more and the Orange Grove property was sold to Robert and Debbie for almost next to nothing in value. Cleaning up the place was both a blessing and a curse. The blessing was that Robert found the pool tables and all their equipment and a pinball machine in perfect working condition in the basement. The curse was that they had to give up their nights doing manual labour, cleaning, finding that the plumbing besides the electrical works needed fixing. Then the four friends argued with each other about who was going to pay for it because Debbie refused to put anymore money into the project and Robert refused. He had already given up his career so that everyone could have a side income. Paul, reluctantly, after a week with some persuasion from Debbie, gave up his savings fund to pay for the electrical works that needed mending and the plumbing issues. The place was coming together nicely and once the floors were washed and a person could see the original black and white checkered flooring, Lemmy gave his entire savings funds too. The place was indeed screaming for potential like Robert had said and envisioned it. People were getting curious. Lemmy's money went to buying all the breakware and glasses, a pizza oven, tables, chairs, decor and some red paint for the walls. They decided to call the bar "Man's Cave" for various reasons, one being that they were mostly men in a group of friends. Then Robert was born in Manchester, England and they were all doing business in the dark as if they were in a cave. Debbie never liked the name. She was ignored anyway because of being in the minority and having a 'girl' status. Despite her dislike of the business name, she wrote an article about "Man's Cave" which, to everyone's surprise, including her, the newspaper published. It was well written. Robert was so proud of it that he had the article framed and hung on the wall opposite the bar for all the curious passersby to read. On opening night between Robert and Lemmy, they had managed to get some famous local musicians to perform for them. As the place got more and more packed that night towards midnight, Robert yelled at the top of his voice, "Drinks are on the house!" Everyone cheered. A stampede took place at the bar by three o'clock in the morning. There was nothing more to drink. Paul had lost two kilograms instantly, Debbie turned pale as a vampire ready to draw blood from Robert, who had passed out drunk underneath the counter still holding a bottle of beer in his hand. Lemmy spent the night sick in the toilet. Though the money could not be found for opening night, Paul estimated it must have been over a hundred thousand Rand lost. Robert made up for it by pledging never to drink again on duty, ordering new stock with his provident fund which he had received from resigning at the mining company, and that night the same number of clients returned, giving Debbie, Paul and Lemmy all new hope to hang in business. The days were quiet. Only the elderly men came during the day, Trevor and Terence. Trevor was a school transport driver who hated children and Terence also worked at the newspaper, but he was not a journalist like Debbie, he worked in the printing department as a desk top publisher and he was in love with an African woman who made him feel like "a real man" with just her voice. Pity she was married and so was Terence to a Susara, who always fought-and-fitted with him whenever he did anything around the house. Trevor and Terence were the daily regulars. The local children would pass by the bar too during the day, "Mr Robbie! Free coke please!" they would cry in by the door with pearly white smiles. Robert could not say no to the gang of children since nobody was there to witness his generosity. Nobody needed to know. Robert rationalized that the children would tell their parents where they got free soda from at the bar and it would make the parents come later thinking that they would get free drinks too. They did come and, in a strange way, it did work out that way. "Man's Cave" at night was always busy. Eighteen months later, "Man's Cave" was still busy. At that time, Paul did the accounting with a smile and a frown. Paul calculated that "Man's Cave" was generating six figures monthly and that each of them in this great friendship earned an additional five-figured salary extra. Which made everyone happy, but Paul could not figure out how come there was never a profit from sales left. The others did not seem to hear him or to care too much about it. Everyone was grateful for just the extra five-figure income to question or complain about anything. Their dreams were becoming true. Paul did not want to be the party spoiler, so Paul kept quiet. Business went well until Lemmy announced, "I won't be able to help out at Man's Cave anymore!" Lemmy had joined a Ballet Production team and decided to move to France indefinitely. "I'll miss you all, mon chevres" "Ugh! He's speaking horrid French!", cried Robert. There was a lot of hugging and kissing between Robert and Lemmy that night, which clearly upset Debbie, but then Paul also noticed that Robert was visibly drunk again and Paul had noticed that it was becoming a regular thing every night. Lemmy left when Robert passed out finally in the car. Debbie and Paul cashed up and locked up. "Is Robert okay?" asked Lemmy. Paul figured that Lemmy had noticed Robert's new ways as well. Debbie laughed it off, "Of course he is. He's British, remember. They're practically born in a pub, didn't you know?" Lemmy looked skeptical, "Paul, you can just keep on sending my share in the account. You have all the contacts and access details to it." "Right on Lemmy. Be careful of those French men." confirmed Paul, shaking Lemmy's hand. Debbie gave Lemmy a long hug and wiped away his tears, "Stop it. You're making your mascara run." "Darling! that's so seventies of you...we have waterproof now." joked Lemmy, then he was gone. Business started slowing down a bit. The performers did not want to come and do free gigs anymore, everyone had an agent now and wanted a fee. It seemed some of the artists had a problem with the area being "dangerous" for hijackings and muggings or some excuse. So Robert bought a Judebox and hired a DJ every weekend to play the music that the local residents liked, which was not to everyone's taste, and the crowd in the pub became a little smaller. A year later, after Lemmy had left and no one heard from him anymore, assuming that Lemmy was living the life of his dreams. Robert managed to negotiate with the Ghost Tour Bus to make a stop at "Man's Cave", claiming that every night that property was haunted by the ghost of the previous murdered owner and his two dead employees. Robert gave the tour guides free drinks out of courtesy. Many visitors were in awe of the spheres they captured with their cellular phone cameras. One night, a large group arrived on the bus. All of them women, Robert, Paul and Debbie were relieved to see the place fill up again. Robert celebrated a bit too much, climbed on the pool table with all the women grabbing at him, some throwing themselves at him for kisses. Robert started yelling, "Ladies, Ladies! Please, I'm a married man." Almost all the women booed, then someone started chanting, "Take it off! Take it off!" Robert laughed at the attention, then pulled off his shirt to reveal his ripped muscled chest, not one hair on it and the flock cheered for joy. Then Robert remembered why he had gotten on the pool table in the first place and yelled, "Drinks are on the house!" Paul choked on the pizza slice he was busy eating. Debbie stormed out, shouting that she was going to buy some cigarettes after quitting for a month, then all hell broke loose. You would think women would behave themselves when they are out at night in the town. Those ladies crawled all over the bar like demons, Robert got dragged under the pool table, the guides of the Ghost Bus went missing in action and then there was a massive explosion, "Bang!" coming from the rest rooms. It rained water everywhere inside the "Man's Cave". A tropical cyclone had been unleashed by the sprinkler system, so the missing guides started up the parked bus. The passengers and patrons cleared out pretty fast. Robert and Paul rushed around to see what had happened. Robert switched off the main water and found Paul standing in the ladies' toilet staring at the only two toilets they had in the restroom...broken down to the floor like cut grass. "How...how did they do that?" Paul muttered.