So I was mosey-ing abound CNA looking at stationery, because there's nothing like stationery to calm me down. I freaking love the stuff. Give me some good-quality highlighters and a box of yellow Bic pens, and I'm happy. I placed my hand on a stack of exams pads, exhaled, and looked at the time on my phone. I was in a rush - I had lunch with Chris is an hour. But alas, I was here, waiting for Craig in CNA.
Sandton City, you see, is not my usual hideout. It's 40 minutes from where I live, is full of "Sandton-people", and was built by a distant relative of Daedalus. As I stood staring at magical permanent markers, I reflected on my morning. You see, I was at SC getting a very-very-cheap haircut, and as I parked the trusty (dusty) Golf in the fiendishly expensive underground parking, I was offered a car wash from a (quite desperate-looking) woman. I politely refused, but she insisted. I agreed. I had R50 in my wallet.After being treated like a criminal at the hair salon ("No, I haven't had my haircut in a while. Why do you think I'm here? Yes my hair is thin. Do you think I don't know that? No, I don't want a Moroccan treatment that costs R350. I don't care if you think my hair is the worst you've ever seen, just cut it!"), I headed out to buy some stuff with a SC giftcard I had received years ago. When I had to pay an extra R10 on top of the giftcard, I reached for my trusty bankcard, only to find IT WASN'T THERE.Crazy pants. I now had to pay the lady at Woolies with my R50 - the R50 for the desperate car wash lady - and also didn't have any money for parking. I certainly wasn't going to leave without paying the carwash lady. So I was legitimately trapped in SC. At 11am. On a Thursday.Enter Craig, the hero. What a legend. After phoning the only Sandton-person I know (Natasha) to no avail, my thoughts turned to the one friend who actually wouldn't mind rescuing me from my very lame and silly situation. Craig works down the road from SC, and actually left work to aid me, so I waited in CNA and looked at stationery until he arrived. This is more of a blog post dedicated to Craig - you're a legend, man. Thanks so much for finding me, giving me money, buying me coffee, and sending me on my silly way. That was nice.After being rescued, I headed to Braamfontein to show Chris the glories of Juta Street, met Mart for coffee, and was schooled in both Identity Theory and foosball by Chris Fish. Not such a bad day after all - but I would've spent it all in Hell if Craig wasn't the work-bunking friend that he is. Thanks!