Sunday, May 16, 2010


There is absolutely nothing as majestic to wake up to on a Saturday morning than the african sun filtering its warm glow through your partly drawn curtains, casting slithers of light on your outstretched limbs. Such was my awakening this weekend past. Its usually followed by a long lazy breakfast at Woolies or Mugg & Bean, but having started the month-long fast on the very same Saturday, the options were void of food venues.

So it was that I decided to spend my day car-shopping. I'd been to a few dealerships and test-driven a range of vehicles by the time i'd arrived at Bruma Nissan in Bedfordview. Now for anyone who knows Bruma Nissan and Thriftys Car Sales right next to it, they would know that both dealerships are situated pretty much inside the parking area of the mall, Park Meadows I think its called.
I spent about three quarters of an hour viewing the vehicles on display when i decided to head back home. Strolling back to my car I noticed an elderly gentleman peering through the window of a shiny black Mercedes Benz parked nearby. He did the usual buyers inspection of checking the bodywork, tapping the doors with his knuckles and kicking the tyres. Im never sure what the last is supposed to verify, but nonetheless he seemed a keen buyer and since the dealership was already closed for business by this time, I suspected he would have to satisfy himself with mere window-shopping.
Next he tried opening the drivers side door, which activated the vehicles alarm system, even though the door remained locked. He looked around for assistance, and I was about to head his way when suddenly out of left field, barreling toward him, was a rather burly looking guy pushing a shopping trolley and barking out "What the hell are you doing by my car?"
Turns out the lonely old car shopper hadn't realised the car he was inspecting was not for sale, but simply parked in the lot.

Earlier that morning i'd been out on a test-drive with Michael from Honda Melrose.
Now there's two vehicles i'm looking to purchase; one being a suitable luxury vehicle for myself, and the other being an MPV (multi-purpose vehicle) for the missus. She likes the B-Class Merc, while I prefer the sensible and reliable Honda FRV for her.
Nevertheless, there I am cruising down the highway with Michael riding shotgun, doing the usual buyer-seller chit-chat. Being that I love observing peoples reactions especially when they're taken off-guard, I asked him "So Michael, how fast do you reckon we could take this baby on the highway?"
These salesmen are so easily rattled, but he came through like a real trooper. The white knuckles and slight whiff of old cheese were the only indication that he had panicked.

Golf today was always going to be a challenge. Walking 7km's is tiring, but doing it while fasting is another matter altogether. I was fortunate though to have been partnered with Dean sombebody. He was such an incessant complainer, it made me forget the rumbling of my empty stomach.
He swore at every shot he played, and even some shots he hadn't played.
He swore more than a drunk sailor who's just found out that the girl he made out with was in fact Larry King.
He swore more than the guy who got all the right Lotto numbers to win the jackpot, only to realise his wife's run off with his best friend and taken the ticket with her.
But the highlight for me was not so much all his cussing.
The highlight for me was when he said he hated the people he worked with, all 12 of them, because all they ever did all day was complain!!
He mentioned his wife between the 13th and 14th hole (not as kinky as it sounds, trust me!), and I asked what she did.
"Oh she's a psychologist", he replied.
Talk about charity beginning at home!

Its now Sunday afternoon, and with still half the day left before the weekend is officially over, I suspect there is yet more excitement lurking.
Watch this space!