I left and walked up towards Kloof Street, straight to Stacked Diner, a recent discovery. They serve tasty delicious beverages and all-day breakfasts, so it’s my new favourite place, second only to Hokey Poke on Church Street. I ordered a crispy potato hash brown stack with soft poached eggs and extra avocado and stared at my fellow patrons while I waited. That’s one of my favourite things about being a woman; you can do things like that without immediately being written off as a creep.

Warm and glad after eating, I walked back to the jol feeling secretly smug for being so content with my own company, outdoors on what had become a balmy night. Finally, the heat had learnt some manners. When I got back to The Odyssey, there was a small queue outside and even though I had already been through this gauntlet, I was stuck behind a young party girl (stilettos in Cape Town, nuff said). She was wheedling loudly, trying to get her friend in, so I couldn’t help overhearing her conversation with the door lady. 

“I knoooow guest-list is closed but my friend’s gonna be here in like fifteen minutes max, pleeeease do me this favour?”

“Girl or guy?”

“Girl.”

“Is she hot?”

The girl in front of me paused for a split second. Rookie error. Immediately, all malleability in the door lady’s disposition dissipated. She stiffened, stood straight up, going as far as shuffling the lists of names on the table, acting all brisk like she was about to enter a board meeting.

“Babe, can you imagine how hard it is for me to turn away ugly girls? At least guys know their place at a party when they’re like, out of their league.” 

She laughed, a hacking Hadeda sound. “I would definitely rather be a guy than an ugly girl.”

She caught my eye and winked. “You’re a hot girl, you know what I mean.”

Because she was looking at me, I didn’t know if she was talking to me or the poor girl in front of me, who didn’t know whether to go in or not. She went in. I was left at the threshold looking at the door lady thinking about that friend, so unceremoniously bounced before she had even arrived. Ugh. The moment felt similar to when people are not only racist in front of you, but also expect solidarity in their racism. Unwittingly, I felt like an accomplice.