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Car wash cass-cass
Published: Tuesday | July 5, 2011 Comments 0
Car wash - File
Now, had it not been for my upbringing and a more-intense-than-normal fear of prison, I would have clobbered the moron then and there. He was driving a large, red pickup and made an unnecessary swing of the vehicle, taking it mere inches from the toes of my beloved left foot. I was standing under a small tree at a roadside car wash near Cross Roads in St Andrew.
It's not a place I frequent, but last Saturday, while in the area with some time to spare, I decided to have my car cleaned. I had parked the vehicle and was waiting my turn when the red pickup nearly relieved me of my toes. Now, while I was calm enough to stop myself from hurling rocks or obscenities in the driver's direction, I was intent on giving him an angry glare the second he showed his face. That would teach him.
The pickup stopped about 10 feet from me and the door opened. I got my scowl ready. Then, out he jumped. He was a short fellow wearing a torn, black T-shirt and shorts. He had on no shoes. I realised he was one of the men washing cars and was moving the red pickup to make room for another vehicle. As luck would have it, he walked over to me.
"Ready fi wash, boss?" he asked. My first instinct was to tell him to move along, I would wait on the next available washer. But, as I looked around at the crowd, it occurred to me that if I passed up this opportunity I would perhaps have a long wait for another. I reluctantly agreed to make the unholy alliance between man and imbecile.
"Gimmi di key mek mi move it," the man without shoes instructed. Aware of his less-than-admirable driving ability, I told him I would do it myself. He walked over to pour soap into a bucket while I moved the car to the appointed spot. I got out and walked back to the tree while the washing got under way.
A woman wearing a purple dress and lots of make-up came up to me. She was holding a clipboard and pen.
"Have mi excuse," she said. I smiled. "Is $500 fi wash," she said. I handed her the money. "T'anks," she said, dryly. I watched as she walked over to the man without shoes, who was now actively washing the car.
"Hello!" she yelled. The man looked at her.
"Mek yuh ah move so slow? Look how lang yuh have dah cyar yah," the woman shouted.
"Lang?" the man replied. "Yuh nuh see mi just start?"
The woman waved the clipboard. "Is back ansa yuh ah give me?" she said, looking cross.
"Move yuh self!" the man shouted back. "Yuh know nutting bout cyar washing?"
The woman was fuming. "Hello? Yuh nuh respect me?" she yelled. "Ah me Dane lef fi run di place! Mine mi send yuh home fi a two day!"
"Send mi home tough foot gyal! Caw ah mussi you ah go wash di cyar dem when yuh send home everybody." The man continued washing the car even as he argued.
The woman stormed off and went into a nearby building mumbling something about calling Dane.
The man turned to me. "Yuh see weh mi ah tell yuh, bredda? Ah so dem deal wid man when dem feel seh dem have likkle something inna life, yuh know," he said. "Dem love tek disadvantage ah man."
I shrugged. The man went back to scrubbing the wheel.
Meanwhile, another quarrel was brewing on the other side of the compound. Apparently, two men who were washing a car together got into a tussle after one accused the other of deliberately throwing a bucket of water at him. Never mind the fact that both were already soaked from the hours already spent that day washing vehicles. It was the principle of the thing.
"Look how yuh wet me up!" yelled the younger of the two. The other man waved him off.
"Mi nuh wet up no man! Yuh clothes soak from day, so move from round me before me and yuh have something," he said.
An elderly man with spectacles low on his nose tried to intervene. "Stop the arguing, my friends. Just get the work done. We are all brothers yuh know," he said.
It appeared the men either did not hear or did not care. The debate continued.
"Ah so you gwaan man, ever ah try show up yuhself," the younger man said.
Against better judgement, the elderly man again tried to break it up.
"Please, gentlemen. Never mind all this fighting. Just get back to work. We need to learn to live better," he said.
Again, he was ignored. The man accused of dousing the other was, by this time, threatening to commit murder. He was holding a piece of board and waving it over his head.
The car the two were supposed to be cleaning was left unattended.
"Call mi name one more time and see wah reach yuh! Just call mi name one more time," the man with the board shouted.
I was certain that a violent atrocity was about to take place, but the interjection of a familiar voice brought everyone to a standstill. It was the elderly man with the spectacles on his nose. He, however, had a very different demeanour.
"Oy! Tap di blinking noise!" he shouted.
"Look from when mi tan up yah ah wait fi unnu done wash mi cyar! Mi done pay fi it already so anyhow unnu nuh shet up unnu mouth and done wash mi cyar, ah lick dung di two ah yuh wid a big stone today!" (and order was restored)
Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com
Published: Tuesday | July 5, 2011 Comments 0
Car wash - File
Now, had it not been for my upbringing and a more-intense-than-normal fear of prison, I would have clobbered the moron then and there. He was driving a large, red pickup and made an unnecessary swing of the vehicle, taking it mere inches from the toes of my beloved left foot. I was standing under a small tree at a roadside car wash near Cross Roads in St Andrew.
It's not a place I frequent, but last Saturday, while in the area with some time to spare, I decided to have my car cleaned. I had parked the vehicle and was waiting my turn when the red pickup nearly relieved me of my toes. Now, while I was calm enough to stop myself from hurling rocks or obscenities in the driver's direction, I was intent on giving him an angry glare the second he showed his face. That would teach him.
The pickup stopped about 10 feet from me and the door opened. I got my scowl ready. Then, out he jumped. He was a short fellow wearing a torn, black T-shirt and shorts. He had on no shoes. I realised he was one of the men washing cars and was moving the red pickup to make room for another vehicle. As luck would have it, he walked over to me.
"Ready fi wash, boss?" he asked. My first instinct was to tell him to move along, I would wait on the next available washer. But, as I looked around at the crowd, it occurred to me that if I passed up this opportunity I would perhaps have a long wait for another. I reluctantly agreed to make the unholy alliance between man and imbecile.
"Gimmi di key mek mi move it," the man without shoes instructed. Aware of his less-than-admirable driving ability, I told him I would do it myself. He walked over to pour soap into a bucket while I moved the car to the appointed spot. I got out and walked back to the tree while the washing got under way.
A woman wearing a purple dress and lots of make-up came up to me. She was holding a clipboard and pen.
"Have mi excuse," she said. I smiled. "Is $500 fi wash," she said. I handed her the money. "T'anks," she said, dryly. I watched as she walked over to the man without shoes, who was now actively washing the car.
"Hello!" she yelled. The man looked at her.
"Mek yuh ah move so slow? Look how lang yuh have dah cyar yah," the woman shouted.
"Lang?" the man replied. "Yuh nuh see mi just start?"
The woman waved the clipboard. "Is back ansa yuh ah give me?" she said, looking cross.
"Move yuh self!" the man shouted back. "Yuh know nutting bout cyar washing?"
The woman was fuming. "Hello? Yuh nuh respect me?" she yelled. "Ah me Dane lef fi run di place! Mine mi send yuh home fi a two day!"
"Send mi home tough foot gyal! Caw ah mussi you ah go wash di cyar dem when yuh send home everybody." The man continued washing the car even as he argued.
The woman stormed off and went into a nearby building mumbling something about calling Dane.
The man turned to me. "Yuh see weh mi ah tell yuh, bredda? Ah so dem deal wid man when dem feel seh dem have likkle something inna life, yuh know," he said. "Dem love tek disadvantage ah man."
I shrugged. The man went back to scrubbing the wheel.
Meanwhile, another quarrel was brewing on the other side of the compound. Apparently, two men who were washing a car together got into a tussle after one accused the other of deliberately throwing a bucket of water at him. Never mind the fact that both were already soaked from the hours already spent that day washing vehicles. It was the principle of the thing.
"Look how yuh wet me up!" yelled the younger of the two. The other man waved him off.
"Mi nuh wet up no man! Yuh clothes soak from day, so move from round me before me and yuh have something," he said.
An elderly man with spectacles low on his nose tried to intervene. "Stop the arguing, my friends. Just get the work done. We are all brothers yuh know," he said.
It appeared the men either did not hear or did not care. The debate continued.
"Ah so you gwaan man, ever ah try show up yuhself," the younger man said.
Against better judgement, the elderly man again tried to break it up.
"Please, gentlemen. Never mind all this fighting. Just get back to work. We need to learn to live better," he said.
Again, he was ignored. The man accused of dousing the other was, by this time, threatening to commit murder. He was holding a piece of board and waving it over his head.
The car the two were supposed to be cleaning was left unattended.
"Call mi name one more time and see wah reach yuh! Just call mi name one more time," the man with the board shouted.
I was certain that a violent atrocity was about to take place, but the interjection of a familiar voice brought everyone to a standstill. It was the elderly man with the spectacles on his nose. He, however, had a very different demeanour.
"Oy! Tap di blinking noise!" he shouted.
"Look from when mi tan up yah ah wait fi unnu done wash mi cyar! Mi done pay fi it already so anyhow unnu nuh shet up unnu mouth and done wash mi cyar, ah lick dung di two ah yuh wid a big stone today!" (and order was restored)
Where should Robert go next? Let him know at robert.lalah@gleanerjm.com