Thursday, 12 November 2015

To The Lady Behind The Wheel

Dear Lady,

I think it is high time we have this conversation. I have held what I have to tell you for too long and now it is time I let it out. My psychiatrist tells me that I should let my emotions out, verbalise more, talk more and let people know what I am feeling. She tells me that it will make me feel better. So here goes, "What on earth is wrong with you?"



I am a generous driver on the road, each time you ask me to give you a chance to join the road I gladly give it to you. Even if I am late for a meeting, I still let you join and go ahead of me. I have been patient with you, because I am a courteous driver. I do not even mind when you do not acknowledge my generosity on the road. When you do not flick your tail lights after I have let you through or when you do not wave at me in appreciation. None of that really bothers me.


Manje iwe, when it is my turn to ask for the same kindness to be bestowed upon me awe I get the shock of my life. Each time I ask to join the road that is when you even turn your ka head the other direction, like you haven't seen me. When I try to nudge my car ahead to test and see if you will allow me through, then you even press on the accelerator. Ala. All attempts to flash my lights to you as a signal have been ignored. Many times I put my hands together begging you that, "Dear Lady please give me a chance," you then hoot at me and tell me to fuseke. What surprises me the most you even do these things in a traffic jam when clearly there is nowhere you are going. I am speechless lady behind the wheel. I have to wait for my fellow gentleman to give me a chance to join the road.   


My psychiatrist says that vengeance is not mine and I should not mind what you do to me, but wapya. They say, 'Revenge is dish best served cold' I will serve mine with a Toyota Carina. Do not dare ask me for a chance to join the road, the way I will give you the evil eye it will rain in this drought. Even if you smile at me, your car shall not go before me. Hell hath no fury like a Carina driver scorned. Whether you drive a Vitz, Navara or Mercedes you are NOT joining. If you dare me, I hope you have insurance because we shall just bump into each other. Find other drivers to give you chance on the road, because my kindness towards you has expired. So next time you ask me to let you through my response will be a loud, GIGO.


Yours faithfully,

Frustrated Brotha

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