Just Not Cricket! - When a crazy room party in Johannesburg has international implications...

In today's short story, we are retelling a memorable evening in Johannesburg where the worlds of airline crew and professional cricket collide. As the crew indulges in a night out at a local bar and restaurant, they unexpectedly cross paths with the Australian cricket team, leading to a spontaneous gathering in a hotel room. What follows is a hilarious and chaotic series of events, including impromptu room parties, makeshift human pyramids, and unexpected camaraderie between the crew and the cricketers. Escape into a world where mischief knows no bounds and unforgettable memories are made in the most unexpected places.

Music Credits

Catch It - Music by Yrii Semchyshyn from Pixabay

Sound Effect from Pixabay

Rock it - Music by Yrii Semchyshyn from Pixabay

Sound Effect by Rotich Wilson from Pixabay

Life of a Wandering Wizard - Music by Sergei Chetvertnykh from Pixabay

Sound Effect by UNIVERSFIELD from

Transcript

When a simple South African room party has international implications… 

Ask any crew member about Johannesburg and they are sure to regale you with stories of delicious steak dinners, bargain beauty treatments and how many bottles of cheap but remarkable wine they managed to bring back the last time they were there. It’s a sad fact that in the countries where the financial divide in the population is the greatest, our per diems go a very, very long way. In such places, the saying ‘champagne lifestyle, lemonade income’ couldn’t be more true. 

In South Africa, we stay in beautiful hotels, meeting in our most glamorous forms at the bar each evening to claim our, probably free large wine, while snacking on delicious biltong and cheese. By 8pm someone, usually the captain, will bang the virtual dinner gong and lead the now well-oiled party to that night’s chosen restaurant.

At dinner no one looks at the prices, you’ll be splitting the bill after all… and if the flight deck are ordering lobster thermidor and fillet steak then what is to be gained by you sticking to the salad, other than supplementing someone else’s feast? Of course, there are plenty of stories to be spun off from here, such as the notorious captain who would hide his expensive bottle of red under the table whilst his crew drank the house wine… treat yourself, Sir! Or the times a brave crewmember who is struggling to make ends meet at home, or perhaps they just don’t drink, dares to say, when the waiter asks for their share, ‘but I only had the starter.’ In normal life with a small table of friends this may not be a problem, but you put fifteen merry, or not so, crew together and this has been known to be a practical declaration of war!

‘But you drank the wine.’

‘And you had some of the bread.’

‘I’m sure she had a glass of water…’

‘Oh there’s always bloody one.’

Lessons are learned, and for a while the crew will check early on for those that don’t want to split the bill. Those with less affable natures will oversee that anyone brave enough to opt out doesn’t dare eat the bread, drink the water, or heaven forbid the wine… and that brave crew member will probably choose never to go out for dinner with the crew in Jo’burg again.

…and then those lessons are forgotten, and as the next generation of crew come up, the same arguments reappear. Are you even crew if you haven’t laughed at the meme of Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper as he asks them who only had the salad?

Thankfully such scenes are rare, and the average South African meal will be washed down with enough wine to sink a ship and a complimentary Dom Pedro, before the bill is presented and everyone takes turns in appreciating how the whole thing had ‘only cost twenty quid.’

SO, to the story. I’ve set the scene, and you can imagine the crew arriving back at the hotel bar after dinner. The conversations are louder, the smiles wider, and they draw the attention of everyone there.

On this evening a group of men watched as this collection of glamorous girls, and their three older male counterparts stumbled in. To anyone who knows it would be quite obvious that with this demographic they must be an airline crew. The group of men, it turns out, are the Australian cricket team, and before the bar tender had even poured their drinks, the two groups were thoroughly intertwined.

‘So, when are they playing next?’ Kate asked the good looking one who had introduced himself to her as the team’s physio.

‘Tomorrow,’ he said, wincing. 

‘Oh,’ Kate laughed. ‘Shouldn’t they be getting an early night?’

‘No comment,’ he replied, looking down at his drink, swirling it around in his glass.

As someone with only a little knowledge of sports it seemed to Kate that cricket must be taken much less seriously here than other sports in other places; she could hardly imagine premiership football players being allowed out drinking the night before a match…

‘Room 1321.’ A loud voice interrupted their conversation and they both turned around to see the captain standing behind them, talking to anyone that was listening.  ‘Bar’s closing so I’ll get some bottles brought up to my room,’ he said, waving his room keycard in his raised hand. 

Kate looked at her watch and then at Physio, she couldn’t remember if he had told her his name yet and didn’t want to ask. It was early, only 11 o’clock, and she was sad for their conversation to end.

‘I’m in. Just for a couple,’ an Australian voice answered him. ‘Coming?’ A burly man with pock-marked skin and red wine-stained lips smacked Physio on the back, forcing his drink to escape from his closed lips.

Physio wiped his lips with the back of his hand and swallowed down what was left in his mouth quickly. ‘Just for a couple,’ he laughed, and smiled at Kate, fixing her with his eyes. Kate smiled back; it seemed, luckily for her, that the captain had invited everyone.

{music?}

In room 1321 someone had already fixed up a speaker and was playing music when they arrived minutes later. Kate marvelled at how much bigger the captain’s room was than hers, with a sitting area and full-size sofa at the far end by the desk. All of the chairs were already taken, and so she found a space at the top of the bed next to Denise, the loudest, and funniest of the crew. Physio was soon perched on the cabinet beside her. There was probably about eighteen to twenty people there that night, an almost even split of crew and cricketers.

The door knocked and someone, not the captain, but someone wearing his hat, disappeared into the small hallway next to the bathroom to answer it. He reappeared moments later pushing a linen-lined trolley loaded with bottles of wine, an ice bucket and glasses. If anyone in the room had been stopping by for ‘just a couple’ it seemed their plans had just been changed. With each bottle that was emptied the room got louder, and playfulness heightened. In the words of the crew member who donated this story ‘the room party was chaos.’ 

By the early hours of the morning several of the cricketers had been squeezed into flight attendant uniforms, make up and nails done to boot. In return the girls had donned their smart blazers and the poor security man who had knocked the door on at least two occasions to ask them to keep the noise down, had all but given up. Johannesburg was known amongst crew for the room parties, and by all standards this one wasn’t the worst… that award would always go to the one where the crew had managed to relocate an entire sofa onto the wide concrete ledge outside of the window, the reasons for which are known only by the perpetrators. At the time, as drunk as they were, they didn’t understand the trouble they would be in… but it would seem that their actions were deemed dangerous by the hotel management, something to do with the room being twenty floors up...

{music?}

‘You, you and you,’ Jane tapped three of the cricketers on the shoulders. She was stood in the middle of the room, a cricket blazer over her wrap-dress, her feet bare on the patterned carpet. Several people had left by now, and there was a sizeable space in the middle of the floor in front of her.

The room quietened, and the three men she had summoned looked up at her, matching confused expressions on their faces.

‘On your knees gentlemen,’ she ordered, like some kind of dominatrix, standing there with an invisible whip in her hand.

No one moved.

After a second, Jane exhaled sharply and thrust her fists into her hips. ‘Human pyramid,’ she said, sounding exasperated, circling her hands in the air now, as if everyone should have known what her plan was. Kate stifled a laugh. Jane the purser had been so different on the flight, so reserved and vanilla the crew down the back had nicknamed her Plain Jane, and yet here she was, indomitable director of hotel-room gymnastics.

‘On your knees,’ she demanded for the second time.

Without argument the three men, two of whom were in skirts, dropped obediently in a line on to all fours.

‘Great,’ Jane nodded her approval, still stoney faced, and looked around. The room was silent now, everyone either a performer or a spectator in her circus. She swept her fringe to the side before pointing at the captain, who visibly shrunk back into his seat.

‘Capitano, and you,’ she signalled to Physio, calling him forward with her finger, ‘next tier.’

‘Er, I don’t …’the captain began to protest, but as if he knew it was futile his hands were already poised on the chair arms to push himself up.

‘Up,’ she ordered him, in a tone that told him not to argue, turning next to look at Physio.

‘You’d better just do as she says,’ Denise said under her breath.  ‘Don’t argue with Plain Jane when she’s like this,’ she said with an indiscernible shake of her head.

Kate stifled a laugh and Physio rose slowly to his feet. 

Like reluctant, trained animals the two men drew into position, placing their hands onto the shoulders of her first victims. Kate held her breath as she watched them climb shakily on top. Behind them, Jane hoisted up her dress, ready to take her place… to claim her glory as the top of the pyramid she had created… but as the captain lifted his last leg off the floor the weight of him caused the cricketer beneath to lurch forward and the half-finished pyramid tumbled to the ground in a hysterical heap.

Kate clutched her stomach, laughing uncontrollably as their thick limbs fought to untangle themselves.  She laughed even harder when she saw the look of sheer fury on Jane’s face, almost able to see the steam coming from her ears, her face screwed up as she scowled at the heap of grown men at her feet.

‘Okay, let’s try again,’ she huffed as the first two managed to get to their feet. 

‘Er, I’m out. I think I might have broken my finger,’ someone said.

Silence descended, and everyone looked at the young cricketer with the thick, dark hair who was still sat on the floor. He was holding his left wrist, and frowning. 

‘Shit,’ someone said.

{music?!}

Kate heard Brad, as she now knew Physio’s name was, close the door quietly behind him. She had wanted to say goodbye, but her head was throbbing and the last thing she wanted was for him to remember her like this… hungover and sick. She tried to ignore the watery sensation in the back of her mouth, reaching blindly for the water bottle she was quite sure was on her bedside. 

Glugging down the cold liquid she put the bottle back down and pulled a pillow over her face to block out the sunlight, groaning inwardly, wishing for sleep to return until this horrible feeling had passed. 

She tried to remember everything that had happened, but all she could really remember was dinner, some brief flash backs of the room party, and waking up next to the warmth of Brad’s body. That bit had been nice, she smiled under the pillow. Yes, that had been nice. Impractical as far as her never-ending search for Mr Right went, but in the interim he was a good Mr Right Now.

Had she really planned to meet him out here next week too, or had she dreamed that bit?

Sleep eventually came and as the afternoon arrived Kate dared to open her eyes. How am I feeling? she asked herself, mentally checking in. Not too bad, she thought, with relief, bearing the stabbing pain in her head as she sat up. She looked at the clock, noting that it was already 2pm. She needed food, and she needed to buy wine, so however she was feeling now was just going to have to be good enough as the wake up call was coming in just over two hours. 

As she stood up she noticed a note pad on her bedside table, the one that had been next to the phone on her desk, and on it was a handwritten note:

Look forward to seeing you next week 

Brad xxx

It was short and sweet, and it made her smile as she showered and threw on some clothes.

Down in the lobby at checkout time, Kate parked her case, heavy with wine, against the wall and walked across to get a coffee from the lady at the counter. A few of the crew were there already, and those that had been at the party until late this morning all wore a telling look on their faces, comrades in their hangovers and memories. She didn’t feel too bad now herself, the fast food she’d got in the mall had soaked up her excess stomach acid, the painkillers had eliminated the headache, and while she could probably do with some decent, alcohol-free sleep, tiredness was her only remaining ailment.

In front of her she watched as Jane stirred three sugars into her coffee, picking it up with a shaking hand and turning around to face her. She looked frail. Despite her makeup she was as pale as a ghost, and Kate wanted to hug her.

‘How are you feeling, Hun?’ she asked sympathetically.

‘Awful,’ Jane said, her voice barely a whisper. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to do this flight.’

‘You’ll be ok,’ Kate reached out and rubbed her arm gently. ‘We’ll get each other through it. Why do we never learn, hey?’ It was no secret, after all, that the effects of alcohol were stronger here in Johannesburg, something to do with it being 6,000ft above sea level, apparently. And yet it was always so much fun at the time, and no one ever wanted the party to end. ‘A few deep breaths on the portable oxygen and first break, you’ll be right as rain,’ she said with a wink.

Jane smiled weakly, walking slowly over to where the others were sitting and sinking into a chair. Kate followed her shortly after, arriving just as someone was retelling the story of the human pyramid. 

‘You were so funny, Jane,’ one of the young girls laughed. Jane didn’t even smile. She looked as though she was wishing the ground would swallow her up.

‘Has anyone got a needle and thread?’ Denise strode over to them, no hint of a hangover on her face, just an enigmatic grin. ‘Bloody cricketer split my skirt open.’ She tugged her skirt around to show where the seam had come apart. ‘I don’t think it’s going to stay together for twelve hours with just a safety pin.’ With that the giggles erupted all around as those that knew recalled the night’s events. The few that had left early looked on in amused confusion…

‘Girls,’ the captain arrived, standing next to Kate. ‘How is everyone?’

‘Not too bad, considering. Denise’s skirt seems to be the only casualty.’ Kate laughed. 

‘Well, I wouldn’t quite say that,’ he said, lowering his voice so that only she could hear. ‘I think the cricket team had one too.’

Kate frowned, wondering what he meant. Did he know about Brad? Was it a metaphor for something?

‘Broken finger?’ he prompted her memory.

‘Ohhh,’ she said, suddenly remembering the sobering end to the party, one of the many parts of the night that she had forgotten. Broken fingers weren’t the end of the world though, were they? Didn’t you just strap them together? … and it was only his little finger, wasn’t it?

‘Uh huh,’ he nodded slowly, his face serious. ‘Bit unfortunate when you’re the best spin bowler on the team.’

Kate narrowed her eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the enormity of what he was saying.

‘Any news on the cricket today, Capitano?’ Right on cue Denise blustered over, still clutching the seam of her skirt together.

‘Unfortunately, they lost. Bowler wasn’t on top form I hear,’ he replied with a knowing look that seemed to bounce off her.

‘Oops,’ she said with a giggle. ‘I wonder if they managed to get the nail varnish off?’ she added.

‘Denise, they lost the game… because of us,’ Kate said, trying to explain to her the gravity of what the captain was saying. What had they done? Had their drunken antics been the demise of the Australian cricket team?! ‘I feel awful,’ she said, holding her face in her hands. 

‘Don’t be daft,’ Denise said with a kind smile. ‘No one made them come and party with us, they were grown men and quite willing. Although…’ Kate followed Denise’s eyes and along with the captain, they watched as Jane walked quickly over to the bathroom in the far corner of the lobby. In her hand she had what looked like a sick bag. ‘Perhaps someone did force them to build a human pyramid…’

Kate nodded in silent agreement…

‘Always the quiet ones,’ Denise grinned, shaking her head.

The captain sucked in a breath through his nose and crossed his arms in front of him. ‘Yep, always the quiet ones,’ he said, his mouth turning up the tiniest bit in the corners. 

Plain Jane, whether she knew it or not, had a lot to answer for…