Bronx Bobby

I spotted this sign which was actually made out of metal so I'm not sure if it was genuine. But there it was, on the wall.

And so Andrew, Ian and Me and various others ended up at the lesbian bar last night.

I have learnt that in Cape Town there are two bars for "the community" (I hate that phrase and promise not to use it again).

Anyway, there is The Lesbian Bar and The Gay Bar. They are next door to each other.

This sign, below, was on the wall in the lesbian bar and if anyone can please offer up a translation, that would be great. Are they song lyrics? And who the fuck is Milly?

We got a bit bored in the lesbian bar (when the Bon Jovi remix started, it was time to go), so we moved on to Bronx next door.

If you've ever been out on the tiles in Cape Town, chances are that at some point you'll have ended up at The Bronx Action Bar (to give it its proper title).

I don't know if it sets out to be so unbelievably trashy but it is.

And not sophisticated trashy like champagne and diamonds in the gutter, more like rum and coke in a plastic cup in the gutter.

However, on this occasion the place managed to sink to a new level of trashiness. (Notice how I've used the word "trash" four times.)

So everyone's standing around drinking rum and coke, or brandy and coke, or beer and a Celine Dion remix is blasting.

Then, this guy gets up onto the bar and starts dancing around the greasy pole, mounted between the bar and the mezzanine.

At first I thought it was a joke but everyone started watching and no-one tried to pull him down so I assume he must have been tasked with providing the entertainment.

This act would take the form of a traditional "clothes removal" routine.

I was so aghast that of course I had to get the phone out.

Here the "stripper" (bwahaha, don't make me laugh) has removed his shirt. Now of course one doesn't want to be rude but...

He had dark hair that had been peroxided blonde. But not blonde like Madonna in her Blonde Ambition tour but blonde like custard yellow. Faded.

In this picture we can see the extent of his physique. Please notice this stomach above his jeans.

And finally... his pièce de résistance. The jeans came down to reveal that he was hiding, well - not much actually.

The air-conditioning wasn't turned up at all and I'm certainly not wanting some guy who's smuggling bananas but dear God. I don't even think they were Calvin Klein.

He should have so got down off there.

He kicked his jeans off and danced around for a bit and then got off (the bar, that is). Someone handed him his jeans back and he mingled with the punters.

It really was a lot worse than I am making it sound. I was aghast and bewildered.

Which leads me nicely onto this...

An advert for some sort of sex bar called Factory in Johannesburg, which I spotted in Exit - a kind of gay listings guide / QX Magazine for South Africa.

Can we all please look at what gets us free entry into "Schlong Night?!"

How on earth do they, um?!

?!!