17 Aug 2011

$0.40c Worth of Trouble

I dressed warm today, bundled myself in a coat and packed a flask of hot hot coffee. The sky was overcast and the wind was doing its best to blow me back, I was ready for it dressed for it. Too bad I had to suffer the conductor who refused to give me my change. Had me holding on to my handbag whilst I ran after him. Flustered and panting, fighting to sound firm authoritative whilst rearranging and arranging my clothes. 

I gave him a good talking to, but that didn't get me my change. Amazing how 40c can cause such a hysterical foul exchange of words (foul on his part and hysterical on mine). 
I got it in the end. With a curse and eyes brimmed with tears. Female manipulation still works on these buffoons. So I left with my coin in my purse and my dignity left in the mud where he stood with a curse hanging on his lips…

I cursed too, as I fought to wipe the mud of my shoes. In my head I cursed him to hell and back. I grabbed him by the collar and banged him against his bus. I punched and scratched. whilst yelling at the top of my lungs. This time he didn’t answer back. Instead he stared at me with fear in his eyes, an apology on his lips and the coins in his hand. That’s right I showed him. I rattled him.

The wetness on my eyelashes reminds me that I could never, that I would never. That I have joined the league of oppressed Zimbabweans, and this time I can't blame it on my president. It's all me and my very own cowardice.

3 comments:

  1. kikikikikiki
    wandinakidza unoziva.
    cld actually see u uchizviita unoziva hako.

    ReplyDelete
  2. these men have caused me so much grief and anxiety! but if you like it, thank you

    ReplyDelete