About Confrontation And Biltong.

Incognito: Shaun dressed up as an old woman, checking out the biltong.

I was walking around Gardens Centre (not Center) today, purchasing my weekly stash of extra large condoms from the nearby Pick n Pay. Having to cart around large boxes of rubbers usually leaves me feeling peckish, as well as slightly aroused. I couldn’t really do anything about my semi, but I could satisfy my appetite, and so headed over to the J&M stall to get some biltong (which is dried, salted meat – a South African delicacy)

I greeted the woman behind the counter in a civil and plutonic manner, not wanting to come across any creepier than what I already seemed. (My slight erection was gently tapping the bottom of the counter as I spoke, which may have made her feel uneasy) Nevertheless, I assumed she was a seasoned professional, who had no doubt seen her fair share of peculiar behavior whilst selling her dried meats. I cleared my throat authoritatively, and was just about to place my order of matured, dried kudo, when the woman’s cellphone rang.

Expecting her to let it ring, she instead answered it.

Expecting her to then say, “Hi, I’m just busy with a customer, will call you back”, she instead started a conversation, seemingly under the impression that, by lifting her hand out, indicating that I should wait, I would wait.

She obviously sensed my fear of confrontation because I did in fact wait.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Eventually, she ended her call, and gave me my biltong, after she saw me pursing my lips, and hearing me breathe out heavily, things polite people typically do when they are angry.

I was planning on spending R50, but I only ended up spending R45 instead.

She didn’t like it, but I think a point was certainly made.

The end.

…

…

What?

F**k you, of course that was a story, what do you mean I wasted your time?

There was a valid point to this, the biltong lady at the counter made me wait whilst she spoke on the phone. Christ, do I need to spell things out for you? You are probably also one of those people who didn’t even click that the movie District Nine was actually about the 1995 Rugby World Cup. (think about it)

Oakes signing off.

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