Damn! A promising (lucrative) career in law enforcement (evasion) awaits! I have all the credentials. In fact I may just be overqualified, since I totally beat Jackie Selebi at the whole avoiding prison time thing. He used my move. Is no one capable of originality anymore?
Back in the old days when we still had to go to the army, and the rule of law meant that children listened because there was always a more extreme punishment if you didn't, I did my civic duty and trotted off to defend the country. Actually I got shitfaced for a week in Gansbaai and decided in my inebriated state to "join the army, be someone" and a day later found myself in a cattle train on my way to Bloemfontein. Boy was I disappointed when the porter in a brown uniform wouldn't allow me to change my mind and go back home.
Anyway, long story short, the army wasn't for me. Middle aged losers with inferior intellect barking instructions at me in Afrikaans didn't sit well with my religiously held belief that I am, in fact, better than everyone and don't respond well to people lacking in the appropriate levels of respect. Basically I'm as self absorbed as Spongebob Squarepants.
You can imagine then, that I found myself playing truant quite often. At first it started all innocently, booking myself in at the medics with a wildly imaginative array of ailments. I got a LOT of Voltaren injections. This later progressed to full blown forging of Doctor's appointment cards and leisurely breakfasts every day at 3 Military Hospital. One fine autumnal day while strolling back to my barracks for an afternoon snooze and feeling quite chuffed with the ongoing success of my brilliant ruse, I was whisked into a bungalow and warned in hushed tones that every single officer and non-commissioned officer in my entire squadron was desperately trying to find me. I also learned the purpose of this was to send me to Detention Barracks for a period of 3 months without trial. I hightailed it back to 3 Military Hospital quicker than any of those okes in Basics EVER did a 2.4km run (I was usually standing on the side making little stars with my hands...) and busted into the dentist's office declaring an impacted wisdom tooth that required immediate extraction. Of course there was fuck all wrong with my tooth, but I was quite prepared to sacrifice one in order to avoid eating all my meals while running on the spot, cleaning driveways with my toothbrush and building steps in my bed blanket using shoe polish and an iron in the Red Helmet Deathcamp.
I had been informed that the standard practise was to allow 6 days recovery leave for such an operation. I was misinformed. I was pretty unthrilled when the dental butcher cheerfully bade me return to my barracks, without even offering me a lollipop for being a good boy. In a split second, life changing moment of absolute clarity and infinite genius I pulled off the most theatrical swoon/faint/nose dive ever to not have won an Oscar. It was so convincing I was immediately wheeled into the Wounds Ward, where I spent the following week high off my tits on a wonderful concoction known as a Codeine Cocktail - which was administered with every whimper of my continually successful performance. I should have been given flowers.
Instead I was given a nifty piece of paper declaring me mentally challenged by a sympathetic shrink. I love that guy. No one was allowed to make me do anything, but I was still allowed to indulge in my daily Sports Pass, a situation that infuriated my Sergeant Major to distraction. I found it rather amusing. At least the rest of my tenure as a Troep was now relatively comfortable. Of course I didn't take into account that they'd call my mother to inform her of my 2 week stint in the Mental Ward...
Jackie Selebi - you should take notes.
We can discuss your technique next week when I'll be in attendance at the unveiling of Shabir Sheik's Star on the Walk Of Fame. In Benoni. Where all the truly talented actors come from.
I have since honed these acting skills to imitate all the moves of a rockstar guitarist. See pictures of the Industrial Band I play for, Axxon, in the January Issue of Marie Claire. Yes. Marie Claire. The women's fashion magazine. Fuck yeah! Taking over the world!
NGDG: "I cut an entire minute off my route - that's comfortably under 4mins/km now. And just when I was getting fed up and ready to pack it in in favour of booze and girls."
Spread The Love. On Jackie Seleb(rit)i. In The Showers. In Prison.
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