by Pierre Le Roux
It is well known and documented that I am generally unpleasant and bitchy when I am not surrounded by beautiful things, running water, air-conditioning and flattering lighting. Case and point would be that court case (of which we do not speak) that I had to attend in the Johannesburg CBD. Every day of the week (for months) I dragged my ass there and had to walk across a road that the fire department had to hose down every morning because homeless people would piss and shit on it during the night. Every day I sat in a courtroom with little to no air-conditioning or flattering lighting, had to buy food for lunch (and sometimes dinner) from places you just knew was infected with all variations of hepatitis, and the only water I could surround myself with was carbonated and bottled. I wasn’t happy then, and I am not happy now.
Road rage is something I suffer from and my most recent episode caused me to have an epiphany. You see I was driving back home from work when an old lady cut me off. She didn’t use her indicator lights before she cut in front of me (which fucking drives me insane) and she was driving way under the speed limit. When I honked my horn at her she proceeded to stick her wrinkled and liver spot covered hand out of the window and flipped me an arthritis encrusted bird – twice! She had done exactly the same thing to me three months earlier, as I recognized her deathmobile (a 1974 Toyota) and her geriatric middle finger. So I did what any normal person would do – I contemplated killing her!
For a brief moment I considered where exactly I would have to bump her car in order for her to veer violently into oncoming traffic. I knew it would have to look like an accident or else my insurance would not pay and I am far too pretty for prison and didn’t want to be charged and convicted of vehicular manslaughter. As I was considering my evil plot of revenge and murder by car, I looked around me. I was surrounded by hawkers, beggars, dirt, broken paving, weeds, trash and dust. I was in the middle of Uglyville. Then I realized, maybe the old lady wasn’t the real cause of my anger, it actualy was the hideous road.
For just under three years I have been driving the same stretch of road to work. It is ugly, straight and there is nothing inspiring or aesthetically pleasing about it. Sure some days there are people collecting money at the traffic lights for whatever cause or charity they represent while dressed in costumes. Some days it is delightful and other days it is not. Just this morning I drove past a bunch of students collecting money for their college. The one guy was either dressed as a zucchini or a squid; I couldn’t tell which it was because the costume was that badly made. I sometimes give them money, if they are cute, and on such a day the road seems less dreadful.
Then there are those days when straight guys insist on publically embarrassing their soon to be married mates and I do like watching heterosexuals making fools of themselves in public. Last week I drove past one such spectacle. The guy was dressed in nothing but a diaper and a cowboy hat begging for cash at a traffic light. He was build like a Greek God. I did slow down and gave him a donation because I wanted to see his biceps up close and express my sympathy and regret over his lifestyle choice. He would have received a bigger donation had it not been for the diaper and the fact that he wasn’t gay, but I digress…
Any self respecting homosexual will tell you there is nothing more unsightly than an unkempt bush and on my stretch of road there are plenty. My city seems to have an aversion to pulling out weeds, trimming bushes and general beautification. So my road remains ugly and it ruins my day daily! Would it destroy the national budget to plant a few trees, a flower or two or God forbid just clean up a bit? Would it kill my city council to even consider lifting up their fat asses from their comfy chairs, for which I as a tax payer pay for, and put forth an effort to make my city attractive? I ask these questions daily while breathing in dust and dodging hawkers, taxis and old women drivers.
Sure, I know the economy is in the shitter and the price of crude oil is having her period, but this is all the more reason to make an effort to gayify our environment. I don’t deserve to be depressed by my commute to work and back, and neither does my fellow road users. The only reason I get road rage is because I drive to work surrounded by hideousness. It is my God given gay right to have my stretch of road beautified! So this is what I am going to do.
First thing tomorrow morning I am calling up my Mayor’s office and demanding they fix this madness. I don’t care if they have bigger problems at hand like municipal strikes, pot holes, prostitution and drug dealers. Even whores and drug dealers deserve a pretty work environment and most people in my city drive 4X4 vehicles and recycle anyway. If they get pissed off at my demands my response will be simple. I will merely ask them “How was your drive to work this morning?” and I will ask them this every day until they get a restraining order.
How long it will take for my hideous piece of road to get its facelift, I do not know. But I will be driving to work from now on with seeds in my car; seeds for flowers that I will be throwing out of my car’s window ever couple of feet. It’s not littering if it’s natural and the world could do with more daisies, poppies and sunflowers! Hopefully my small concerted effort will shoot sprouts, the flowers will grow and bloom into something spectacular. One day my commute to work and back will bring a little smile to my face and perhaps to others too.
til next time…