I am outraged. The local rag has published a story about a drug den in our neighbourhood. Hello - everyone in our suburb knows that the local drug dealers hang out in the broken railway carriages.
My domestic - Everjoy - a reliable source, has told me that they sell dagga in bank bags – I mean, I'm not really sure what all the fuss is these days. It's practically a legal medicine except for a few formalities.
Personally until all the fuss dies down I prefer to get mine from the pharmacy.
If the newspaper headline screams - Drug Den exposed! One immediately thinks of those terrible Joburg drugs like cocaine and heroin - God forbid.
I know we have dozens of illegal Zimbabweans in Hilton. It's practically little Zim here as the Zimbabweans have flocked to the last outpost for work. But I am sure I have never heard a Nigerian accent in the village.
Mercia encourages me to write a letter to the newspaper protesting. She is involved with the Crime Protection Forum and she feels strongly about it.
She is not inclined to have her name printed in the local rag. She comes from a highbrow family and it would not do to be associated with a scandal. I assume that she thinks because I am from Joburg I am the right person to write about drugs.
Our little rag is fast becoming desperate as readership declines. Ever since they culled the gardening and birding columns, and the cryptic crossword, the newspaper has gone to the dogs.
Ethelie Ramsbottom, the local gossip and manager of the coffee shop -says the paper makes its money on the sex adverts in the classifieds.Ethelie is a fountain of information. She was the first to know all about Rachel Brink’s nervous breakdown before anyone else.
Remember Rachel the monkey poison scandal - Apparently poor Rachel has checked into the elite Cornfield Institute for a bit of "R&R".
Ethelie says the banana incident was very upsetting for Rachel and the final straw for her was her discovery, a fortnight ago, that her husband was having an affair with his secretary.
“NO!” I said
“Yes!” she said.
“It was that prim little coloured girl called Vergenia, who always answered the phone so nicely. You could never tell that she came from the Cape Flats,” hissed Ethelie.
“Rachel caught them in the act, bonking on his desk at the office. It has hit her hard, poor thing.”
Oh dear poor Rachel - her husband Johnny Brink is a bastard and now he is a cheating one as well.
The problem is that divorcing Johnny will be like declaring the third world war and Rachel will emerge from the protracted divorce battle penniless and emotionally eviscerated.
The best thing she can do is stay married and find ways to make Johnny suffer. Feed him some bananas!