In Dec 2008, in a very elaborate scheme to cheat the government off VAT, I slunk into the bowels of River Road to buy new tyres.
The deal was awesome I tell you. Now, after my purchase, the retailer gives me two 'jamaas' to carry my goods to that parking next to the Supreme Court. These guys were walking like game rangers - fast!
Every two minutes a stranger would look me in the eye and attempt to start a conversation and I would hurry on, thinking they were conmen out to distract me so that the guys carrying my 'brad' new tyres would melt into thin air.
Eventually, we arrive and one of the porters turns around and says, "Boss, funga zip!" So that's why strangers were attempting to tell rude me? As in I walked halfway across town with my orange boxers peeping like a neon light?!!!
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