Zim: 10 things I hate about you

I know it’s rare, kinda weird and naggingly un-patriotic, but I thought it was about time I put down a list of things that really get on my tits. It’s not all about hating my native country, I just think anywhere on this planet, the following shit would piss just about anyone off.

1. People, please learn to drive. If you’re gonna get behind the wheel, at least have a slight clue what you’re up to. Women reversing: the scariest shit in Harare. Seriously, the mirrors are for more than checking your lipstick. Embassy drivers: speed thrills, we know, traffic signs are not mere guidelines and please, does CD stand for Crazy Driver? And you, on the highway with one headlight…and it’s not even the one on the inside. And yes, please, park anywhere you like, the hazards will tell me not to bother you.

2. Yeah, I do enjoy trying at least 5 times before I get through to a mobile from my landline. It’s fun, like rolling dice, “which tone will I get?” Tel*One, or PTC or whatever you call yourselves this week, first of all, a customer service department is meant to SERVE it’s CUSTOMERS. A two-year wait for connection is not service. Blaming the exchange and ‘faulty copper’ for my lack of leased-line internet is not service. It’s YOUR faulty copper, asshole. That’s why I called you, not the Zambian Ministry of Mines.

3. “Plain, Mild or Hot?” Uhm, mild thanks. Would you like chips with that? No. Would you like a hideously over-priced yellowy fruit “Juicy”? feck, no. Anything else…..NO, dammit! If I came in here, looked at the board above your head, scanned the prices, made a choice, smiled at you to indicate I was ready to order and ORDERED a quarter chicken, that’s all I want; deal with it. And you too, Miss Chicken Inn, if I wanted your shitty BBQ sauce or runny egg on my burger, I would ask for it. Who trains these morons? And yes, you’re ugly.

4. Dude, just cos you pulled me over doesn’t mean I can’t leave till I give you “something”. I know you get a shitty salary, I know your family starves too, but the gray uniform and reflective vest is NOT licence to solicit. Yes, my registration is in order. The boot? Open it and see…aaaw, nothing there? Okay, check my glove compartment. Nada? Scan the back seats; of course I’ll open the bag for you, that’s my rent money, wanna come along and watch me pay it? Oooh, NOW you want my licence? There it is. All good? Thanks. Try not to look so disappointed. Doos.

5. Sweetie, just cos I promised to call you on Sunday and didn’t does NOT mean I don’t love you any more. If at all, I love you today more than I did on Sunday. Why can’t you ask me why I didn’t call? It’s not that I have an excuse, but you can’t know the reason, maybe something came up, something serious, and of course nothing more important than you, but I had to take care of it and ran out of airtime. I apologised. Deal with it. Sulking won’t help. I know I stood you up, it happened, I’ll fix it. Geez.

6. No, it’s not a priviledge for me to be in your commuter omnibus. In fact, you should be thanking me for jumping into this over-speeding deathtrap. And please, dude, get you armpit out my face, if you want money from the lady two rows behind me, ask me, I’ll gladly pass it along, as long as I don’t get the pleasure of your two-day-old armpit love. Seriously, your potty mouth does nothing for you either, be polite asshole, there’s 18 of us and two of you. Watch out driver, Mob Justice 5 Km.

7. Oh dearie me, Zimbabwe TeleVision. No wonder people don’t pay their licenses. Getting to watch Cheers, Golden Girls and then LA Heat all in a row, from 10.30 at night, should be a wonderful experience for the dedicated TV fan. But considering this is about all the good shit you have, and it’s all on one night, you’ve gotta do something. And what’s with all the bullshit at prime time? You know what? There’s just too much, I’ll save this for another post, let’s just say, for now…be afraid.

8. Radio. Come on guys. Power FM, or Radio 3, or whatever you fools are today: we get it. These are nice songs. Yes, we like Wyclef’s L.O.V.E. just like you do. And Mary J’s Be Without You is fecking awesome. But please, not 5 times a day, each. Yeah, every DJ wants to play these songs, but chill. They’re NOT the only songs you dumb shits can pirate off the internet.

9. Politicians. On the news. Every day. And it’s the same old characters. Uncle Bob. Ray Kaukonde. Enough now.

10. Thank you Delta Beverages, for the recent price increase. More than anything else in this shitty economy, it has shown all of us grown men the folly of spending all our free time in bars and nightclubs. Thanks to you, Paul Sinclair now sells his booze at half-a-million dollars a pint*. And that’s enough to get even me sober, and for that you should be proud. Assholes.

*Yes, I know it’s now 500 dollars arsehole, doesn’t really sound the same though, does it?