Joined: 04 Sep 2005
Location: Munich, Germany
|This just came in from a friend of mine who lives in SA:
Charley's Chat November 2006 (Bike SA)
When I was a lightie back at Dawnview High, Miss Richardson, our English teacher tuned me once in class that an oke must always be careful about the stuff he reads.
When she tuned me this thing, I schemed she was actually talking about my sick-note that she got the day before that was actually written by one of the chicks in our class who had a lekker neat handwriting. Of course, I hadn’t been even slightly sick. Me and a buddy went and checked Easy Rider in Hillbrow instead of doing cadets.
Anyway, I’m tuning you okes about this thing of not believing everything you read because the other day I almost got caught a lekker shot by some okes who I will never ever trust again in my life.
There I was jolling home from graft and just coming down the Selby off-ramp when this oke steps out in front of me with his hands out so wide I can’t get past him. With a sinking feeling in my guts I stop my boney right there in between his legs…
Now it was at least four days since the cops had stopped me last and I knew my luck couldn’t hold. With these new cameras on poles on the highway they must of checked me skieting in between the taxis and also caught me blikseming the tannie’s mirror who was crawling along at only 140 in the fast lane.
But instead of writing me a ticket, the oke gives me this piece of paper with a whole lot of writing and stuff on it and then lets me go. I couldn’t believe that it wasn’t a ticket and sommer pulled over to the side of the road right there to check what it said.
Although I must of looked my normal rugged calm on the outside, with shaky hands I read the leaflet and almost crumpled it up when I checked the nonsense on it. In big writing at the top it tuned ‘Think Bike’ and then had all kinds of stuff about riding safely and being alert and well mannered to other road users and tuned that bikers should be visible and not ride drunk and all sorts of other namby pamby sissy rubbish.
Now I knew the oke was till checking me out and so I gave him a lekker smile and a big thumbs-up and folded the piece of paper all neatly and put it in my pocket and got ready to pull out into the traffic.
Instead of just cutting out in front of a taxi that was coming along, I waited all politely and gave the taxi driver a kind smile and showed for him to go in front of me.
What happened next really gave me a surprise. Instead of just blikseming past me, the taxi oke slowed and let me go in front of him instead. I waved thank-you and he waved back at me with a big smile.
Now as you Jo’burg biker okes will sommer know this is very strange behaviour, but I am not afraid of change and started scheming that maybe some of the stuff that was on the piece of paper might even be a little bit true.
Well, the pamphlet also tuned that we must ride carefully and so I tapped off on the throttle a bit so that I was actually only doing 60 kays and hour and sat up straight instead of being crouched in my normal racing position.
The next thing I know, two speed-cops leap out of the bushes to stop me in their speed trap, but then with long faces get called back by the oke manning the speed-trap machine who tunes them that I was at the speed limit. The smile on my face got even bigger and I began to feel that the piece of paper with it’s list of things was a bit like magic.
When I got home I opened the pamphlet again and very carefully started rereading all the stuff on it. I came to the part again that tuned that okes on bonies should be moer of a visible and went out and checked the dull paint from under all the goggas and bugs and then got a bucket of hot water and Handy Andy and a big rag and some Mr. Min. I swear, I was almost on the verge of washing my bike, but there are some things a true biker just doesn’t do to his boney…
Now although my buddy Howie looks like one of those news-paper delivery moegoe okes in his bright orange and silver reflective vest, he tunes that when he wears it the cars just get out of his way like he’s Moses crossing the Red Sea. From two of those new Red Woolworth’s shopping bags I made a lummie cover just like Howie’s. In this thing I was gonna be visible to even the blindest cabbie driver.
Later that night as I fell asleep my mind was still going through the list to see if I had left anything out. In my dreams I rode carefully and nicely in the traffic while the taxis stayed out of the yellow lanes and everybody smiled and was nice to each other. At the end of my dream okes in neat CMA colours even welcomed me into their club and we all hugged each other and smiled even more.
Early the next morning filled with new energy I woke up and got ready for work. But then, as I stood in front of the mirror checking out my new bright red moegoe-type lummie cover I began to feel uneasy. Then later as I was reached deep into the back of the fridge for my usual Castle six-pack that I always pack for lunch, my brain flashed back to the pamphlet and what it tuned about dopping and riding.
I pulled out the paper and checked it out carefully one more time. There under the big ‘Think Bike’ heading and just under the point about being alert and lekker to other users of the road it had a long sentence about not riding if you were even just a little bit vrot.
And that’s when I got suspicious and checked something small right at the bottom of the pamphlet. I opened my Swiss Army Pocket Knife’s magnifying glass and read what it said…
In very sneaky tiny printing in tuned, ‘Printed in Cape Town’.
As I tore the pamphlet and the vest into pieces I just shook my head. Those Cape Town okes are so spiteful and will do anything to undermine our Jo’burg biker way of life just to make us be more like them…