Team Building with Tenpin Bowling, Tequila and Terrible Directions

The intrepid adventurers, aka MediaVision South Africa, returned once again in April to continue team building, this time it took the form of a fierce game of tenpin bowling. The game started a little later than anticipated as following Brandon’s impeccable sense of direction, the brave writers trio (Sandy, Brandon and Frances) fought their way through the back streets of the Southern Suburb’s urban jungle, in order to experience the world’s longest short cut. Meanwhile, back at the bar, Brett and Darren were being equally brave with battery acid tequila and no lemon. The writers trio joined in on a round of placatory shots and the men flexed their muscles to begin the game of WWW raw tenpin bowling.

It was all a blur of action and sweat, Brett and Brandon made a strong start, hitting a few tens, Sandy was following close on their heels, upholding the reputation of the female half of the company. Frances stuck to the gutter, alternating between the left and right for variation and Darren made a strong comeback in the second half. Melissa was doing well and moved up from her place as crowned ‘worst player’ by hitting a few each time. The TV score card, however, took a dislike to Melissa and refused to award her for her full score, instead forcing her to retake it.

Frances redeemed herself somewhat by hitting a few pins after being given a few confusing tips by the two B’s. Standing in a contorted position, she managed to get a few down, but then resumed her place firmly in the gutter. Brandon lost some of his former gusto, and lost a few balls to the gutter. He also lost his footing at one stage and did a graceful fall in front of the lane. Tequila was blamed and we moved on. Now, Sandy and Darren were the only hope to stop Brett winning the game and rubbing his minion’s faces in it. Brett won the game and rubbed his minion’s faces in it. More colourful shots in a liquid form followed and the fantastic six, aka MediaVision SA, thought they should perhaps move on to the restaurant for their seven ‘o clock reservation at approximately eight. Darren and Brett stayed back for awhile to discuss philosophy with the barman and Brandon, more sure of his directions this time, led the way to Primi Piatti for arguably the best pizza in town.

The manager, disappointed by our late arrival, put us in the corner to think about our actions for half an hour while he leisurely organised a replacement table. A delicious garlic bread was ravenously devoured while awaiting the arrival of the Tequila Twins. We poured over the extensive menu tempted by everything and changing our minds repeatedly. The pizzas were as good as they sounded, and more scary photos were taken. Brett also led at pizza eating, while Darren tentatively nibbled on two slices. The idea of ordering potent jam jar cocktails was considered and dismissed. Instead, a round of South Africa’s national shooter (springbokkies) was ordered. Brandon knocked his over in protest. And eating resumed. The last adventure of the night was finding the car park, but we navigated our way out slowly with little incident, with Frances bringing up the rear some 30 minutes later.