Dialogue from my woodwork club memories of 2019
Zan: Dude! Are you crazy?! You dropped a SAW on my foot!
Nic: Oh. Sorry.
Zan: Sir, Nic dropped a saw on my toe!
Mr. Brit: That’s ok, you’ve got another one.
(And yes, those aren’t their real names)
Most recent traffic police incident
Ok so, we were driving to church in my dad’s Acura since my mom’s car was low on gas and gas prices have gone up (as if we don’t all know). By “we” I mean my brothers, my mom, and me. My brothers and I absolutely love this car because it’s the only one of its kind in our city, fast, luxurious, and sleek and smooth as a Jaguar. My mom, on the other hand, doesn’t like it because it’s so big and naturally draws the police’s attention. My dad has another car but it’s a stick shift and my mom doesn’t know the first thing about manuals, so we were stuck with the Acura.
Years ago when we moved here, our Acura’s windshield was cracked during the journey. It got my dad in trouble a lot. We finally bought a new windshield from the States and were enjoying it one day as we drove home from church when this dude flies past us, and a loose piece of gravel from his tires literally lands smack in the BRAND-NEW WINDSHIELD.
Yay.
The good news was that the crack hardly showed, so we didn’t have any trouble with police—at first. Then one day some guy was cleaning the car and leaned on the windshield. His weight pressed the tiny crack and stretched it into a foot-long crack.
Oops.
But still we managed to avoid the police because my dad filled in the crack so it could only be seen from the inside of the car. That is, until recently when it somehow got extended and now makes a very pretty glint from yards away.
So. About driving to church a couple weeks ago. We were running late and these police pull us over.
“Hello how are you can I have your license. Oh left-hand-drive car. Nice.”
WILL YOU HURRY UP ALREADY?!?!
While my mom is getting her license, the officer goes to the front of the car and we can see him following the length of the crack with his eyes. My mom is so impatient she’s like “I’m not waiting for him to come back over here and get my license.” So she gets out, walks over, and shoves it in his face. (Ok, a little exaggeration there.) He looks at her like no hurry in Africa, ma’am. And then another officer comes over and the two discuss the crack with my mom. She asks them to let us go and we’ll get it fixed and they’re like why haven’t you gotten it fixed all this time.
BECAUSE THE WINDSHIELD IS TOO SPECIAL TO BUY IN TANZANIA!!!
No, that’s not what she said, but it was along those lines. So they finally let us go after telling her to make sure she orders the new windshield soon because cracks are dangerous and they don’t allow them and blah blah blah. Anyway, it wasn’t so bad.
Then on the way home, we see police, again. And we get pulled over, again. But this guy comes over, looks at the car, and says, “You know what? Your car is in perfect condition. I would be a hypocrite if I said there was something wrong with it. You’re free to go on your way.”
We drove away staring at each other and going like what was THAT? They can actually admit your car is fine? Some of these police are just so nice, right? And others are just—yeah. Tanzania never ceases to amaze me.
~shellyK
P.S. In case you were wondering, we did make it to church on time.
Woah. That's crazy stuff!