the other side of the mountain

This has been an interesting year for me. If I was given the opportunity to go back and make a few changes, I certainly would. Pointless though this speculation may be, it is nevertheless quite fun. I would probably also be tempted to make one or two minor alterations to world events. The idea of wilfully screwing with the universal order is immensely appealing. I suppose I should become a mercenary or rebel, but I’m a bit put off by the long working hours and having to kill strangers in nasty ways.

One of the things that have changed is that I have to travel more often, so a couple of days ago, I found myself at the airport again. As luck would have it, I selected Kulula as my conveyance. I really do think it’s time they started diverting a small fraction of all that money they spend on advertising into their IT maintenance budget, because their damned computerised check-in system at Cape Town International goes down more often than a starving nymphomaniac with an empty fridge.

The queue of annoyed passengers snaked back and forth across the departures hall so many times, that it was difficult to tell where it started. Tempers ran high. Voices were raised. Several fistfights nearly broke out when hopeful travellers tried to push into the line ahead of other passengers who were seriously fed up with the lack of movement.

“Departure Hall Rage” doesn’t have quite the same snappy ring that “Road Rage” does, but I can’t think of a better term for it. It’s a pity you can’t bottle irritation and use it as a power source. Eskom would be out of business.