653289528350

A YOUNG MAN’S LONG, AWKWARD, OCCASIONALLY
TRAGIC, AND FREQUENTLY HUMILIATING
EDUCATION IN AFFAIRS OF THE HEART, PART III:
THE DANCE
By the end of high school I’d become a mogul. My tuck-shop business had evolved into a
mini-empire that included selling pirated CDs I made at home. I’d convinced my mother, as
frugal as she was, that I needed a computer for school. I didn’t. I wanted it so I could surf the
Internet and play Leisure Suit Larry. But I was very convincing, and she broke down and got
it for me. Thanks to the computer, the Internet, and the fortunate gift of a CD writer from a
friend, I was in business.
I had carved out my niche, and was having a great time; life was so good as an outsider
that I didn’t even think about dating. The only girls in my life were the naked ones on my
computer. While I downloaded music and messed around in chat rooms, I’d dabble in porn
sites here and there. No video, of course, only pictures. With online porn today you just drop
straight into the madness, but with dial-up it took so long for the images to load. It was
almost gentlemanly compared to now. You’d spend a good five minutes looking at her face,
getting to know her as a person. Then a few minutes later you’d get some boobs. By the time
you got to her vagina, you’d spent a lot of quality time together.
In September of grade twelve, the matric dance was coming up. Senior prom. This was
the big one. I was again faced with the dilemma of Valentine’s Day, confronting another
strange ritual I did not understand. All I knew about prom was that, according to my
American movies, prom is where it happens. You lose your virginity. You go and you ride in
the limousine, and then you and the girl do the thing. That was literally my only reference.
But I knew the rule: Cool guys get girls, and funny guys get to hang out with the cool guys
with their girls. So I’d assumed I wouldn’t be going, or if I did go it wouldn’t be with a date.
I had two middlemen working for me in my CD business, Bongani and Tom. They sold
the CDs that I copied in exchange for a cut. I met Tom at the arcade at the Balfour Park mall.
Like Teddy, he lived nearby because his mom was a domestic worker. Tom was in my grade
but went to a government school, Northview, a proper ghetto school. Tom handled my CD
sales over there.
Tom was a chatterbox, hyperactive and go-go-go. He was a real hustler, too, always trying
to cut a deal, work an angle. He could get people to do anything. A great guy, but fucking crazy
and a complete liar as well. I went with him once to Hammanskraal, a settlement that was