DRIVE-BY SHOOTINGS
And thus the kook whack went off the rails completely. He phoned the Narcotics Squad to come to the house to search it for drugs when he knew he’d left bottlenecks and dope all over the place. He sent a message to me via a mutual acquaintance that he was going to drive past and shoot me at the shop where I worked. And he threatened to come back and break in and destroy everything in the house from the microwave to the carpets. My housemates and I spent my birthday locked in my bedroom with all of our belongings stacked to the ceilings and my puzzled cat to keep us company.
Say no to drugs, kids.
Oddly enough, I bumped into this individual at a Johannesburg flea market a few years later. Joburg is not as large as it seems when you’re hoping to have left the whackwallies back in Durban. But alas, there he stood, chatting to me as though ne’er a drive-by shooting threat had been issued back in ‘97. And he asked me for my phone number so we could keep in touch...
This brings me to observations about people. Aren’t they an interesting lot? We all have our little quirks, some of them amplified vastly with chemical induction. The good Lord knows I have some idiosyncrasies that can throttle my friends around several badly shaped bends.
You trust people who move in and take the north-facing room and fling down a few silk kikoi’s over the furniture before you’re told they’re from Cape Town and Pagad has them on their hit list because they’re in debt.
Mothers, fathers, siblings...are you aware of where your flesh and blood is tonight?
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