The Red Light District

This past Monday I did something I should never have done - gone out with a veteran photojournalist who can't go more than 5 minutes without talking about how he's going to quit tomorrow. Not because guys like this are boring, but because they're crazy and don't care anymore - and that's dangerous. After going out for one drink with him, it quickly turned into more than I would have liked. That's when the night got interesting. Without me knowing where we were going, he took me into what I thought was a bar but turned out to be what is universally regarded as one of the worst strip clubs here in Cape Town, known as the Cage. It's basically a whore house that fronts as a beyond awful strip club. Wanting to leave, I burst out the door to find myself on a deserted dark street in a section of town I've never been in - Cape Town's Red Light District. I had no choice but to go back in and watch the guy, along with a buddy of his, go after girls for the next 45 minutes. All the while he kept telling me, "I love the black girls." Fantastic, and this guy has a 10 year-old daughter. To say it was not fun would be a mild understatement. This is last time I ever go out with anyone from work again.