There's a guy who works with me, I won't write his name down, because I don't want to offend him. I will call him 'Stanley', because Stanley is a suitable name. I wouldn't really say he's a foreskin or anything, but he's definitely as boring as one. Stanley is 32. When I met him for the first time I thought he was 23, but the creases on the back of his neck, his aged skin and receding hairline made 32 sound slightly more appropriate. Stanley has never had a girlfriend. He never masturbates. How do I know this? Let me explain, I was born with a sick third eye that allows me to spot reckless 'wankers'.
For instance, last year, the foreman couldn't understand why delivery times of our work to other businesses steeply rose within a week. Of course, my 'wank eye' allowed me to sense 'Riaan', our white trash driver, pulling 'draad' in the ladies toilet. His routine became obvious to me after a few days of watching him, park his bakkie in the yard, then watch his cellphone for a suspicious 10 minutes. Most free online porn clips are round about ten minutes and Riaans attention span is around there to. All it took was a stern knock on the door and a raise in my voice to a loud conservative Hoerskool headmaster voice, “Is iemand daar binne!?”
“Ya, ek's amper klaar!”
And after the wank perpetrator was put in place I made sure he got the idea by sending a message to his phone saying: “"geen draadtrek by die werk nie"”, profits shifted by 1.2% after that.
My wank senses don't tingle for Stanley, who has the same bored face of a dog who just laid his spunk on the hottest piece of pooch on the block. But why!? It took some detecting on my part to figure this one out. Stanley is English and drove an orange Beetle in pretty good condition.
“Hey Stanley, I was driving up and down Church last night, you know, looking for a friend, but they were all kak ugly, you don't know where I could maybe go to find a proper friend?”
“Why you asking me?”
“I asked Riaan, but he referred me to some place in Proclomation Hill and not that I have anything against that place, it's just that, I don't know, the people there give me the creeps, I thought cos you stay close to me you might know.”
“Ya, theres this place in Faerie Glen, actually, quite a few, Asian or White?”
Fucking sick, I thought to myself.
“I don't know, ahh, asian?”
And so he explained to me where it was and who to speak to when I got to the gate. That sorted, my wank senses were right again.
Stanley fascinated me. I watched him as he occasionally worked and mostly day dreamed. I began to speak to him more frequently.
“What school did you got to?”
“Why this work?”
“Why whores, why no girlfriend”
Apparently when he left school he went into repairing an engine management instrument that went extinct after the on board computer arrived. He was left without work for 2 years and jumped at the oppurtunity of working where I work. Unfortunately after working on Struben street for five years, Stanley couldn't grasp simple concepts of our line of work and was appointed to doing menial work. Like stripping and cleaning mechanical spares which caused profits to raise by 0.32 %. Not much, and he realized it too, but work is work for him, and sitting at home with no qualification and light at the end of the tunnel, this was an oppurtunity.
“Annuit coeptis” Stanley, I thought to myself while watching him drift into another one of his dreams.
I whipped out my Ipod and played the following track, http://www.youtube.com/wat
It was at that moment, that something amazing happened. I was sitting at my famous window, listening to that track, eating my lunch, when out of the distance an ancient dilapidated orange beetle appeared. The beetle parked outside my window. In it was a splitting image of Stanley, except with more tired skin and gray hair. I checked to see if Stanley was still asleep behind me. He was! How could this be? The man sat there, watching through the one way glass. His eyes were directed at Stanley. What scared me about this was that the glass looked like a mirror from where the beetle was standing. Nothing inside could be seen from the outside. But his eyes knew exactly where Stanley was standing.
The older Stanley was frail, and looked like a 'sukkelaar'. The inside of the beetle had cooking pans and and pillows. The roof was stacked with all kinds of shit which was held in place by a horribly welded cage. He probably lived in it. The orange paint was barely visible and was close to being completely faded. It was sad to look at. I flicked my ipod to “Lollipop” by Lil' Wayne, and after 3 seconds of it decided this wasn't working. I tried, http://www.youtube.com/wat
It appeared too obvious to me that Old Stanley came from the Future to warn his younger self to take the road more traveled and work hard, raise a family and make something of himself. A tear rolled down my cheek as it all became apparent. I ran outside as quickly as I could.
Old Stanley was slowly getting out of the car. He was surprised to see me, he recognized me. Of course he wouldn't make that obivious, which I understood.
“Sorry Oom, but you can't park here, there's parking round the corner, here let me help you". I helped him with a forceful hand to get back into his camper beetle. I then pointed to where he should park, just round the corner next to the taxi rank. I then walked to our security guard Abraham, an obedient young man with big dreams and told him,
“Make sure that ol' man doesn't get in here, he's fucken mad, he wants money for nothing!”
Profits stayed where they were and we never lost that 0.32% that Stanley made for the company.
"Veni, vidi, vici" Stanley............
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