So there I am on my way to see Bad Brad, a mate of mine who’s moved to Durban.  Finally – a buddy from my hometown nearby! He calls to ask me to pop in at the garage to pick up a pack of smokes. After nearly being rammed up the frigging ass by a taxi who tries to park his bonnet in my boot at the traffic lights, I turn left into the Garage and park right outside the doors of the 24hr One Stop.

Inside, I contemplate buying myself a box of smokes too, but my will to not, wins. The cashier (inaptly named ‘Intelligence’) hands over the smokes for Bad Brad and I hand over my plastic to pay for them. But out of the corner of my eye, I see my blue Chico Golf rolling backwards with its lights on.

Holy shitballs, I panic, whilst frozen in confusion and shock.

My body mock charges towards the door, then stops in doubt, then starts again, then stops at the fucking electric- door- that- won’t- open- quick- enough, damnit! Ten million years later, I manage to exit the One Stop at the speed of light to the sounds of Intelligence and crew in the shop behind me “Haaibo and Eish’ing” to their hearts content, convinced I’ve just done a runner.

Tearing up to the outside the car window, I scream at the man sitting in the driving spot:

DUDE! PRESS ON THE BREAKS! ITS ROLLING BACK, PRESS- ON- THE- FUCKING- BREA-hey, wait! Excuse me please, but why the fuck are you driving my car?

*please insert murderous thoughts here*

YOU GET OUT OF MY CAR YOU CRIMINAL! GET! OUT! PETROL DUDES, YOU GUYYYYS – HE’S STEALING MY CAR, MAN! CALL THE POLICE, DIPSHITS!

Rapidly the man rolls down the window, looking terrified, “Please! L-l-lady! Calm down, please, calm down! What is it that you want? I have no money on me! Do you have you, do you got a gun, laydee?”

My thoughts: What? What?! What the hell would he ask if I had a gun f– oh, shit. Oh no…

Cringingly, I look up and around me a little bit. Oh please god, no.

Over the roof of this blue Chico Golf, I see another, bluer, Chico Golf.  Right in the next parking bay to this particular blue Chico Golf THAT I THINK IS BEING STOLEN, I see MY blue Chico Golf.  Right next to it.  In the next parking bay.  Untouched and unstarted.  Not being stolen in the slightest manner of any way.

I. Have. Not. The. Words.