Still waters

You have this 2 litre twin turbo powered behemoth that sounds like a jet engine when it takes off, and as you weave through traffic, some guy just passes you like you were motionless..and he is as silent as the stealth bomber. Anyway at least you showed that sandak what El Legacy can do. Moral of the story?....well there are no morals when it comes to breaking speed rules. You think you have the fastest car, the biggest brain, the brightest idea, the prettiest wife at home...well reality is there is a high probability there is someone out there with a marginally faster car, way smarter than you and with a chick hotter than Angelina Jolie waiting for him at home.

This reminds me of a time I was sent by my mum to the bank to deposit some cheques for her. This is back in 2000, when I was the KYM in the diggz...I ran all the errands and was getting some practical real world exposure albeit being perennially broke. So I line up in some long queue behind this smartly dressed Asian fella. He looked pleased with himself, holding an envelope (A4 size) which he proceeded to display the contents at a time when he was about 5 people from the counter. The guy had in my estimate about 1.5m in cash, and he wanted everyone to know it. me and my measly cheques (amounts withheld) coiled behind him in embarrasment giving him a wide berth asiniaibishe saaana! Well on the adjacent queue was another brother from the Indian sub-continent, very shabbily dressed, with some dirty jeans and a large black leather jacket, holding those green paperbags with calenders printed on the side. He looked nonchalant and unconcerned with the dude displaying his mullah for all and sundry to see. As fate would have it, he reached the counter before Mr. Show-off and I immediately saw the tellers face light up in recognition..."why aren't you using the bulk teller?" the teller asked, and as I turned to check the bulk teller, it was occupied and seemed our 20-man queue would be done before the guy in there was done with his business. Then Mr.Dirty-jeans opened his jwala bag and poured bundle after bundle of used notes. He looked at the fella in front of me and smiled. While the note-counter worked overtime counting the money that was being banked by Mr.Dirty-jeans, he proceeded to open his jacket and more bundles fell out..he had strapped more notes on his upper body,and he proceeded to pull his trouser-legs unstrapping more cash held by rubber bands on his shins....he then took out his wallet, fished some notes from what he was handing in and put in his wallet (pocket change I guess). I was smiling almost bursting into laughter as the guy ahead of me in the queue (Mr.Show-off) was looking for a rock to hide under. Well me and the others on the queue beamed with our puny deposits as humble pie was served hot off the oven.

Note to self (and other interested parties)..Be humble in whatever you do or say, egg on face has a nasty feel to it.