Function VIP rooms and how to work them

After five calls I realise he’s checking my name on caller ID and dropping the call, so I borrow someone’s phone and call him on that. Sure enough, he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, Tebogo” I tune him, still a bit out of breath from hitch-hiking. “It’s Lance, china. I’m ya outside the party, man. Come and get me in!”
He makes some kind of grumbling noise, but five minutes later he shows up at the door.
At this party it’s cellphone invites, so I get him to pass his phone over the fence, then I flash it at the door guys and I’m in. No ways I’m gonna miss this one.
They’ve got a fashion show on the go with Pabi Moloi MC’ing, two bars and a buffet. So I go get a couple of plates at the food table. Not bad chow, ay. A Kenyan fish dish, Cape Malay chicken curry, a Ethiopian beef stew kind of thing with a weird name and these long Egyptian meatballs.
Then it’s time to find the VIP section. As I thought, it’s inside the main building. I’ve been to functions at Moyo before.
So I find a guy out of VIP who looks like he’s leaving and ask him if I can get his pass. My girlfriend’s in there, mos.
He hooks me up, so I put the lanyard round my neck and head in there.
It’s all a bit D-list. Mostly guys from MTN.
But then I spot Mike Jack, the oke I met at Hlubi’s birthday, and I go introduce myself. He’s speaking to a guy called Kumaren who’s into video production and events.
The guys are talking about a project of Kumaren’s to bring Missy Elliott down for a gig.
I tell him how her last visit was a flop because she played the wrong venue. How if “my company” was doing it, we would have put her on at the Bassline with, like, three other local acts. I’d probably have gone with Prokid, Brickz and Bongo Maffin.
Kumaren reckons, “You sound like you know what you’re talking about. Do you think you guys could organise something like that at short notice?”
He says he’s only got one gig organised for Missy – some corporate gig on the Thursday. There’s room for one more the next night before she flies back. Do I think I can swing it by next weekend?
I’m on it like a bonnet, chaan. I tune him how I’m old friends with Brad from the Bassline and how I know Mphumi from Ghetto Ruff and all the guys at Gallo, so for sure I can do it. Just, for such short notice, I’d want 15 percent of door. It’s only fair.
He cards me and I promise to get back to him before lunch tomorrow. I tell him I’m out of business cards, but I write my number on a serviette for him. But it doesn’t matter, coz he’s going to be hearing from me first thing anyway.
So then I mingle along, mingle along, all the time scheming how’m I gonna pull this off. Then I spot Brennan, this other oke I met that time we got so caned at Six in Melville after I crashed the advertising awards. I remember he said he played corporate soccer with Brad. So I go up and reintroduce myself.
The oke remembers me a bit. So we chat about football and stuff and I ask him who he’s playing for these days. And Brad?
No, Brad’s not playing any more since he had the lightie. So I reckon, ay I must congratulate him. Has he got Brad’s number for me. My phone got stolen and I lost it.
So I now I got Brad’s number.
Mingle along, Mingle along…
When I get away from Brennan I phone him up and make my pitch, sort of in a different accent: “Hi Brad. This is Kumaran er… Kumaran Pillay of Turbo Events. I’m bringing Missy Elliott out this week and I’ve got a proposal for you…”
He sounds interested, so I tell him how I’d rather he dealt with the promoter who’s putting the whole thing together. A guy called Lance.
He can call him at the following number…
Then I quickly run to the bogs, where the background noise will be a little different. Brad phones just as I get there. Like a little champie I set up a meeting for tomorrow. Styling, chaan!
‘Nother successful night out! Now I just need to find Tebogo and try organise us a lift home.
I wonder what I should call my company. How does Lancet Promotions sound? I scheme that’s a kief name.