If South Africa were a more litigious society, there are some things a lawyer might find particularly enticing about life in this part of the world. Particularly lucrative, shall we say.
Elevators that trap pregnant women between the ground and the first floor (yes – like Europe, they call the floor above the ground floor the first floor). Screeching to a series of halts, and plummets, the elevator grinds to a halt about a foot above the intended landing area, forcing said pregnant woman to crawl out, and send an all-staff email in warning.
Gross negligence by locksmiths who, instead of cutting a simple door key properly, cock it up so that one’s parents are trapped outside one’s apartment for 5 hours, unable to get in, and unable to contact you on your mobile, because you have wisely left the mobile on the dining room table with a note for them explaining you thought it better that they have the mobile for the day to avoid being trapped in the apartment complex with no link to the outside world. (For more reading on this subject, see post #2 “The importance of a blackberry”). (Now that, Alanis Morrisette, is actually ironic.)
Gross ridiculous gaping holes in main roads, marked by a single pylon, if you’re lucky, causing unnecessary swerving, and lots of accidents.
Manslaughter in the second degree by anyone and everyone who smokes in this country – which actually is anyone and everyone (possibly even said pregnant woman’s fetus, for all I know) – since smoking anywhere and everywhere is pretty much a-ok.
Ill-placed hills of sand in the middle of major roads, with not even a pylon, resulting in more swerving, cussing, and general bad temper.
Complete lack of street lights, reflective paint on street signs and highway information boards, and cows in the middle of highways, causing premature death due to stress trying to read the signs and find one’s way back from the Pilanesberg after dark because one just “had to go and see the elephants again”. After one white-knuckle ride home, you’d think one would have learned. But you would be wrong-o.
Probably quite inadvisable lack of cabs* or cab chits after work functions involving beer from 8am until way way way after dark, resulting in three, count’em, three, vehicles being written off after encounters with aforementioned sand hills, gaping holes, and probably a couple of cows too.
*Although – here’s a great idea that is actually happening in Joburg: You’re drunk. You don’t want to drive, but you also don’t want to leave your car – because you are in South Africa. You don’t drive – you call: Toot n’Scoot. Some dude answers your call, drives over on a collapsible scooter. He puts the scooter in your trunk, and drives you and your car home. Then he pulls out his scooter, and off he goes, like the shining scooter knight that he is. Brilliant.
Elevators that trap pregnant women between the ground and the first floor (yes – like Europe, they call the floor above the ground floor the first floor). Screeching to a series of halts, and plummets, the elevator grinds to a halt about a foot above the intended landing area, forcing said pregnant woman to crawl out, and send an all-staff email in warning.
Gross negligence by locksmiths who, instead of cutting a simple door key properly, cock it up so that one’s parents are trapped outside one’s apartment for 5 hours, unable to get in, and unable to contact you on your mobile, because you have wisely left the mobile on the dining room table with a note for them explaining you thought it better that they have the mobile for the day to avoid being trapped in the apartment complex with no link to the outside world. (For more reading on this subject, see post #2 “The importance of a blackberry”). (Now that, Alanis Morrisette, is actually ironic.)
Gross ridiculous gaping holes in main roads, marked by a single pylon, if you’re lucky, causing unnecessary swerving, and lots of accidents.
Manslaughter in the second degree by anyone and everyone who smokes in this country – which actually is anyone and everyone (possibly even said pregnant woman’s fetus, for all I know) – since smoking anywhere and everywhere is pretty much a-ok.
Ill-placed hills of sand in the middle of major roads, with not even a pylon, resulting in more swerving, cussing, and general bad temper.
Complete lack of street lights, reflective paint on street signs and highway information boards, and cows in the middle of highways, causing premature death due to stress trying to read the signs and find one’s way back from the Pilanesberg after dark because one just “had to go and see the elephants again”. After one white-knuckle ride home, you’d think one would have learned. But you would be wrong-o.
Probably quite inadvisable lack of cabs* or cab chits after work functions involving beer from 8am until way way way after dark, resulting in three, count’em, three, vehicles being written off after encounters with aforementioned sand hills, gaping holes, and probably a couple of cows too.
*Although – here’s a great idea that is actually happening in Joburg: You’re drunk. You don’t want to drive, but you also don’t want to leave your car – because you are in South Africa. You don’t drive – you call: Toot n’Scoot. Some dude answers your call, drives over on a collapsible scooter. He puts the scooter in your trunk, and drives you and your car home. Then he pulls out his scooter, and off he goes, like the shining scooter knight that he is. Brilliant.
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