Different Day, same Shit

i gran taxis primarily because they make it their misssion to get you at work on time no matter what obstacles lie in their way.

The scenario, I have overslept, i wear whatever needn't be ironed, grab a chocolate steri stumpie and run like zola bud on drugs down the street to Klipfontein road.

I anticipate that 50% of the Ct population are heading in the same direction as me. There is a Cape Town bus coming along, at a very slow pace, but its so full i know that if i enter it I'll get out looking as if i never bothered to iron my clothes which would defeat the purpose of wearing clothes that looks like its just been ironed.

Packed buses is not the reason i prefer taking a taxi, the real reason is the music. Now you might ask me how do i select a taxi, easy depends which taxi vibrates and 'skuds' more.

Now taxi drivers only play two types of music, either old school, Good Hope Stuff but including the latest taxi numbers like, "Pussy Cat Dolls, Shaggy and Enemim, and Destinys child" or SLOW JAMS which include any DIva who isnt white, like Mariyah, Tony Braxton, Aretha Franklin and oh yes, Vanessa Williams. Actually i lie, there is one white diva which taxi drivers do listen to, Celine Dion, that Titanic song was played one too many times, i wished that Kate Winslet died with Leo.
But have you ever gotten into a taxi to hear Barbara Streisand or Allanis Morrisette play.
Unlikely, impossible, aint happening.

But i like taxi numbers, the music is always too loud and the 'gaartjie' goois chorus to the slow jams and i only laugh.

Excuse me, did i say gaartjie i meant 'sliding door operator'

So im standing at the bus stop, and shake my head to the sardine packed bus. A taxi passes by, hooting like a lunatic, and i hear Beyonce only 'klopping' and the gaartjie smiles at me with his one gold tooth and ferari cap.
"Cape Town, kanala" i say and he organises me a seat, the single one on the left handside. If u drive in a taxi you know what im talking about, and off i go.

I close my eyes cause i can imagine how many points hes losing breaking every rule in that yellow "learners book" i studied so religiously.

The driver stops in the middle of Klipfontein to pick up an old lady that just shopped at Elite, with three big packets of groceries, i can see the fish oil in one. Im thinking, its 7.45am who shops at that hour, but she answers my question when the gaarjie inquisitively asks it. She replies, "its a specia, R3.99 for the fish oil,l seunjie' and gets off near Bridgetown. He politely helps her with the bags and adds a 'totsiens ma'.

At Athlone terminus four people get out but six more get in which means those magic seats which comprise of a piece of wood covered in material gets slotted in the empty space next to me.
Now im all squashed and no better off than in the bus, but at least here i can listen to music.

The traffi is thick but the driver is persistant and takes every conceivable free road driving through pinelands escaping the highways traffic. Cars hoot as the taxi squeezes into the tiniest of places without even putting an indicator on. I failed my licence because of that move but thats another story.

8.15 and I am in one pice in Town on time. Mt stomache grumbles, so i decide to quickly go to the Golden acre and grab a lekker doughnut frosted with chooclate icing. As i bite into the delight that weigh less and even more so my dentist would not approve of, i see that same bus full of even more people pull up into the terminus.

I slowly walk towards the Shell house building, licking my lips which are covered with icing, singing the sweet tunes of Beyonce. A different day but never the same shit in a taxi!!