So todays lesson is: Don't spend R350 on a pickup truck to haul your broken Vuka home unless you really need him too. On Sunday, Easter fucking Sunday of all days, my Vuka stopped on the road. I was driving and then it was as if I couldn't give it power. It was only the spark plug that came loose, but I'm a non-mechanic and this was an extreme situation. I was supposed to go to Hayden my cousin for a braai, I was supposed to be home at 6:15pm awaiting a kiss from my sweet Judi. I was supposed to have a brand new Vuka. But I was shafted. It stalled as I approached the Baxter theatre. Very calmly, I sent a please call me to Judi and she phoned my roommate Brent (who is supposed to know about bikes) to assist me. The lesson I learned is that in this life, you can only depend on yourself. It was dark, there were all sorts of hippies and students walking around like the fucking undead and I was scared! I didn't want to leave my Vuka on the road! No way was that going to happen. Ross (Judi's roomate) very kindly picked me up and we attempted to put the Vuka in her back seat. That didnt work out. So we left it there, chained to a lamp post. Five hours later and after a hearty pizza meal, Me, Judi and some crane vulture extracted my Vuka from the road and dropped it off at her house. In the morning, I went to check it out and I noticed a tiny plug like device hanging off the bottom of the Vuka. All I did was plug it in and the fucker worked. End of story.
Sunday was better. Easter at Judi's family. It was mad. A whole family, full of Judi's. Which is great. They sure were a friendly bunch of folks. Loads of eggs, lots of booze and a sneaky joint (beforehand) ensured a good time. Now I'm at work. And its boring. Its a holiday today so I wont get any phone calls. At least my writing is finished for the day.
