Tuesday, January 26, 2010

'Jacked plates probably over in Bloem

Still annoyed about finding my registration plates gone after leaving the ftv afterparty for Errol Arendz and Craig Port's show last Saturday. I always thought people who drove around without numberplates were (a) gangsters, or (b) ordinary non law-abiding citizens trying to evade the long arm (or the long pocket, in South Africa's case) of the law, and would always wave my fist out of the window at them with a few juicy curses. Now I understand everything - those are all the poor fools who park in Nelson Mandela Square and get their plates 'jacked while they go around their business. The victims' own plates are probably over in Bloemfontein or somewhere Down South being used on a heist vehicle, or worse. The thieves had managed to scale one set and were working on the back ones, which were definitely loose, when I arrived on the scene. But did I see any sign of the dudes who did it though? They had completely vanished into the woodwork.

It kinda put a bad taste in my mouth after a really great party. I was told that the only way to stop being arrested and thrown in the clink with a whole lot of really interesting people for the night is to go and report the plate theft to your nearest cop shop, and get an affidavit which you are supposed to wave around like fake papers at the Gestapo hoping this will protect you, the innocent party, from being blamed upon for the bad deeds of others.

But it does beg the question: crime is getting so very enterprising in this country that you wonder what they will come up with next? Identity theft seems to be the new crime-chic, and taking someone's integrity with it is part of the game. Even if you are law abiding in this country, which increasingly fewer people seem to be, someone will manage to take away your good name.

"Who steals my purse steals trash but he that filches from me my good name
robs me of that which not enriches him, and makes me poor indeed."

PS: On the bright side, and completely not apropos of anything except for Bloemfontein, I was told that a bright spark has come up with the idea of planting young saplings in all the potholes in that thriving city. Why let a good pothole go to waste, after all?

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