A TALE OF MAN VS MANIAC
This morning, yours truly, decided to sneak in a pinch of top-secret and highly professional canoe
training at Emmerentia dam, before the first farts of the sparrows could escape their imprisoning
sphincters, and even before the glories-of-mornings of most non-gay South African men could rise
to view the possible prospects of "before work" swims.
Yep, I was up and onto that little patch of water before sunrise, tearing around it at
record-breaking pace, sneaking in a wee bit of pre-Duzi training in order to wrestle the crown away
from the well slow and soft Martin Dreyer (present Duzi champion, for those of you not in the
intellectual canoe mix) next time around.
Anyway, the details of my incredible canoe talent are not up for discussion here, but rather what
happened on my drive home after the session, in rush hour traffic and, in particular, on Jan Smuts
Avenue near to the Old Parktonian Sports Club around 8am. I was happily chilling in my car, cruising
along at about 60kph, in pretty much bumper-to-bumper traffic, with nobody going anywhere any
faster; it was simply not an option. Well, not an option for anyone with a brain, with an ounce of
logic within their crania, with a drop of sense inside the membranes of their cerebral hemispheres.
You'd think that a creature without a brain would equate to a fly or less, a category that includes
mosquitoes, stones, anvils and......taxi drivers.
Yep, enter Sipho "I'm a dickhead without a brain cell" Ndlovo, driver of a Toyota Hi-Ace with
4 wheels, 1 brake pad, no lights, half a steering wheel, about 30 people inside and 3 masking-taped
windows, standard issue for a South African taxi driver.
He had more than likely participated in the demonstration march last month with hundreds of other
taxi driver idiots protesting about having had their 'vehicles' impounded for not being roadworthy.
The rocket-scientists couldn't understand what wasn't roadworthy about a taxi with a bobejaan
spanner for a steering wheel, or one without brakes (they reckon a handbrake is just as good as the
foot brake pedal).
Anyway, my mate Sipho decided things weren't flowing fast enough for him so started weaving in
and out of the traffic, arm hanging out of his window like a baboon's tail hanging from its ring piece.
I heard this aeronautical engineer-like taxi driver coming from about 5 cars back, because everyone
was hooting and slamming on brakes to avoid the accident that he was trying his damnest to cause.
After he narrowly missed the back of my canoe as he swerved in behind me I made a stubborn little
vow that he definitely wouldn't be cutting in front of me like that, and so began the fun and games.
The bum-wart first tried the standard tactic of intimidation, just gradually cutting me off, in the
typical "you'd better slow down and let me in, or I'll crash into you" method.
Well, I used the typical "Fuck you faeces-brain" tactic, with one hand on the hooter, the other
pointing straight at him, with my foot firmly on the accelerator, until he backed down like Mike Catt
had done in 1995 when Jonah Lomu ran straight over him. This had a snowball effect, which had me
chuckling the whole way back to my humble abode. Syphilis-face then decided to put all his well
acquired driving skill to the test and adopted the smartest technique of them all, the "Eish, I weel
ovah-take on the wrong side" method, one that sadly has caused numerous accidents in the past,
including the untimely death of one of our awesome mates a year ago.
This made old Maccatini madder than a spitting cobra with a red hot cactus lodged up its rectum.
No skin off the fucking taxi drivers nose, he just accelerated more, and tried to cut in front of the
double-cab in front of me, this after he had hooted at me and showed me a middle finger
accompanied with a few swearwords, something that made me want to beat him harder than
Campbell hit the gay boy who stabbed him repeatedly with a pen all those years ago!
Well, the fella in front of me had obviously also been observing the proceedings, and likewise refused
to let Sipho Dickdribble Ndhlovo in so the acceleration by the monkey continued, while he tried his
hardest to outstare the double-cab driver. Sadly for the nuclear physicist the emergency lane was
shortly going to end, with a solid stone pavement to mark its ending.
More sadly for him was the fact that he, and his 30-odd passengers were all trying their damnest to
"intimidate by staring" myself and the double-cab man, instead of watching the road ahead
something that most brain-owners do when driving.
I saw it coming, and was smiling my full-tusk smile even before they hit!! Anal-bum-wart hit that
pavement at about 70kph, 31 passengers bumped their heads on the roof of the Hi-Ace in poetic
unison, adding an extra 31 dents to the already-fucked minibus, and the two front wheels were
ripped off the chassis as the bus slid to a delightful halt.
Thankfully no passengers were hurt, which made it the most fantastic thing to witness. Sadly
though, Sipho, arm still hanging out of the window,was also unscathed. However, his car was more
fucked than that prostitute at PE harbour named Deloris, and his mood was somewhat
I hooted and made sure he got the full-frontal of my biggest-ever super smile, as did the driver of
the double-cab, and then to my absolute joy, looked in my mirror to see every driver behind me
doing exactly the same!
The brain-cell-lacker had received his well-earned treatment! I was happier than the Proteas when
they beat the Aussies, or at least as happy!!
So folks, what a peachy morning it has been so far. The sun is shining, it's Friday, I've done my
training. There will be a lot of thirst quenched this weekend, and Sipho, Faeces-face Ndlovo is one
mini-bus short of a taxi! Now that is justice....!