This, too, was meant for Anazo… Forgive me dear friend, like all writers, I hate seeing a good piece of writing go unpublished. 🙂
Getting into the working class is a feat most young South Africans are currently struggling with. The lucky ones get to deal with the beaurocracy of standing in long queues at SARS for the first time. (Thus giving SARS the permission to take a share of your hard earned money out of your bank account come pay day. So, you, the tax payer can finance more of the millions that government officials spend on holidays, helicopter rides and meals from Nandos – which, I might add, YOU may never get to enjoy. .. Except for the Nandos… If you’re lucky.)
So here I am one of the lucky ones, I’ve got a brand new job and like all people looking forward to seeing that first pay slip, I need to be a registered tax payer. To my surprise, the SARS branch in the North West of Jozi, in Randburg was extremely efficient. You walk in, talk to the person at reception, get a slip with a number which one of the numerous tellers will call to help you.
This is a far cry from the service one gets from the Mthatha branch, or so I’ve been told. (I’m inclined to believe that my home town’s SARS is not very user friendly… Neither are any of our public service renderers like the post office, local business or banks are, on any given day, ever efficient.)
Anyhow, I’m in and out SARS in an hour tops. Rightly so… I got lost for two hours while trying to locate the darn place! I’m thirsty, hungry and tired from walking around half the morning, so on my way to the Randburg taxi rank, while walking passed the Randburg Square mall I entered a small cafe where I found the cure to all the troubles of that morning… Chocolate-chocolate chip muffins!
The sight of them in that grass basket by the till, all individually wrapped, dark brown and about the size of a cricket ball. They were calling my name, and I was all too keen to answer. I bought two muffins, knowing that there is no way anything made from or of chocolate should be taken in moderation, and I went on my merry way. Anticipating the explosion of bliss my taste buds would later experience, I got into a taxi heading into the CBD.
As I sat in the front seat of a blue taxi, with my head phones snug around my ears, pouring the soothing sounds of Lira’s music into my ears, my untimely end flashed in front of my eyes as the taxi I was in collided with a white Audi in front of us.
The collision was not fatal, thank heavens, but it did rattle me. So I leapt out of the taxi as fast as my heavy bones could, and straight onto another, dead set on getting my thick butt back home safely so I could retell the story to someone, anyone… As long they were alive and were available to bear witness to my having survived, unscathed.
As soon as I reached the CBD I thought to go straight to my friends flat (because they were there and I needed to calm my nerves with seeing familiar and friendly faces.) After Loyiso opened for me, I immediately sat on a stool, opened my bag and took the muffins out so I could, before anything else, thank Creation for (A) my life and (B) the wonderment that is chocolate-chocolate chip muffins.
I told both Loyiso and Bukelwa of my horrific taxi tale, who ‘ooh-ed’ and aah-ed’ in the usual fashion people do after hearing of such near death incidents. And we shared a huge laugh over me waking away from there with both my life and two of some awesome tasting muffins.
I must say, never have I enjoyed the simple treat of a muffin as I did that day. And though I’m eating one now, as I write this, the muffins I had that day will forever go down as the best I’ve had in my short life.