My daughter was rehearsing for her school play, and we needed to get to the rehearsal at the Links that morning — a casual little rerouting from our usual trip to the College on the other side of the Kromme.

I’ve always felt uneasy crossing the Kromme anyway. It’s like the Wild West out there, lappa side of the river,  the real world, full of real dangers, Humansdorp etc

Trouble at the Boom Gate

As we arrived at the boom gate, a lady and her daughter were having some trouble. One thing about the Links: they take their security seriously. Double-checking of licences and all that.

Unfortunately, this poor lady had misplaced her licence, couldn’t gain entrance, and her daughter also needed to be at the rehearsal. Since I was heading to the clubhouse with my daughter anyway, I offered to run her up.

The lady now had to reverse, but there was a car parked on my tail. That driver didn’t seem particularly keen to move. Eventually, the security guard managed to persuade them that it would be in everyone’s best interest to reverse, allowing me to reverse, so that the lady in front could get out. What we were now dealing with was rapidly turning into the world’s smallest gridlock. She extricated herself and waved to me in thanks. One bright moment in a morning that was about to go pear-shaped.

The Line-Jumper Appears

Then came the wildcard.

A fourth driver saw me reversing to help the lady and decided that the tiny gap now in front of me was a golden opportunity. They darted forward out of the queue, hoping to sneak into the space just vacated.

Fortunately, I, well-trained by years of early-morning inbound Cape Town traffic on the N2, calmly edged forward and closed the gap before they could wedge themselves in.

“C’mon, ekse,” I thought. “Be cool. We all want to get in there.”

The would-be line jumper was left stranded outside the patiently waiting queue.

(I did have a quiet chuckle. It was a small but lekker win.)

Thanks to the miracle of tinted windows, mine and theirs, we couldn’t see each other, but the fogging on their glass suggested heavy breathing, and I could hear muffled shouting. I turned up the volume on Wayne, Lee, and Charlie Tee just enough to drown it out.

Order Restored… Slowly

Once inside the Links, there was a vehicle practically touching the back of my car. The speed limit throughout the Estate is between 20 and 40 km/hour, so I drove at 20, to show respect to the Links Management. With a tow bar on the back, no one could get clever.

Over the speed bumps, I slowed almost to a standstill, lingering agonizingly to the point of nearly stalling on each apex. But I was in control of the moment. I was the moderator of unwarranted impatience, the great leveller of early-morning entitlement.

We all got to the clubhouse in time, and I briefly considered stepping out to confront the person behind me in a slow-motion face-off, but decided that an early morning meeting between a saphead and a misanthrope might not end well. Anyway, I felt I’d already pushed my luck far enough with kak decisions, and needed to leave a few for next week…