No no, this blog has not changed its ethics to begin writing about the blogger's work place. That is still taboo. Also, I don't have the worst job in the world. Far from it.
Ok, before I get into the meat of this post I must admit that what i'm going to write about is something I kind of remember having read somewhere - either on a blog or a newspaper article. But it just struck me last night and then I just had to write about it this morning.
So I was at a Lebanese food festival last night. Ah, heavenly Hummus.(I am going through a Hummus place in my life. In fact I'm at that place in my food-life that I totally understand and appreciate Zolan's Hummus fascination in 'You Don't Mess with Zohan'. In fact, I would love to brush my teeth with Hummus).
While returning at around 11:30 I was just marveling at this awesome new route I have found which avoids all red lights and police check points. As I swung into a congregating road, I had an epiphany. The cops are smarter than you think. They mollycoddle you into believing that you've discovered a great route and just as you're making a bid for freedom with the accelerator on the floor, there you see it. A roadblock check point manned by some 4-5 cops with a malicious grin plastered on their face. Those smiles seem to be saying - 'You think you're smart, mate? Think again'
Having said that, I don't think I grudge their little joys. Afterall they have the WORST JOB IN THE WORLD!
Yes, its true.
Can you imagine working in a job in which every Friday and Saturday night you have to lean into cars smelling people's breath to see if they're drunk?
Book: Disgrace - J M Coetze
(I read so many books and then I forget (I use a library). Decided to keep a record of the books I read on this blog)