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A ride that left one shaken like James Bond's cocktails

By unknown | Nov 18, 2008 | COMMENTS [ 0 ]

We were lucky to get a taxi home within 10 minutes of queueing last Thursday.

We were lucky to get a taxi home within 10 minutes of queueing last Thursday.

But this taxi did not look good. It had a roof panel missing and pings and rust on the inside. The seats were newly reupholstered though.

The driver was not happy to drive us to Dawn Park. He was one of those who complain that the East Rand should be classified a long-distance journey.

The taxi started shaking and rattling right there in the Noord Rank. We were being shaken violently like a James Bond cocktail.

I now appreciate why tree huggers say every living thing has a soul that can be hurt by our treatment of it. We were shaken like tenderised steak in a pan all the way home at high speed.

The driver ignored our pleas to slow down. He was dressed like a mean American rapper. His fancy takkies were unlaced and he wore baggy tracksuit pants and a skimpy T-shirt and his head was covered with a small hat. He looked like a man you did not mess with.

We made good time at high speed until BAM! There was a tremendous noise right under my seat when we were directly in front of a speeding horse and trailer.

I threw myself onto the lap of the middle passenger at the same time the woman on the other side did. We clung onto the poor lady with a deadly grip as the taxi careered all over the highway with the truck bearing down on us.

This went on for about 500m before the driver brought the taxi under control. No one got out of the minibus for a good two minutes.

We slowly let go of the woman we were throttling and apologised, though we did not thank her for being our lifeline.

When we alighted, we discovered a tyre had burst. The tyres looked splendid, with highly polished whitewalls. The trouble was all four were as bald as a newborn baby, smooth as glass. Only the daring would willingly ride in a car with such barren tyres.

A passenger wailed that she did not want to be an Arrive Alive statistic. There was a cacophony of raised voices thanking the Lord for our deliverance.

The driver was not sure who the taxi owner was and did not know his phone number or address. He only knew his nickname. He did not have a cellphone. We had to wait a long time before someone came to our aid.

I was cool and calm and secretly proud that I had not panicked.

The shakes hit me the next morning. I got into the bath, but did not wash.

I dressed without drying myself. I dropped a glass of juice and did not know what to do about the broken glass. I was a mess and had to beg for a day off work.


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