A holiday to Cape Town is the scene of yet another hysterical event, though perhaps not as calamitous as what we have come to expect from my friend, even so, this story deserves to be told, ‘cos it is rather funny.
I want to take this opportunity to lay a foundation for the story to follow. While in school, my friend and I would have sleep overs every weekend and some week nights. She would come over to my home and I would visit hers’ on a regular basis. Even though I would be spending only a weekend at her home, I would arrive at school with three bags, to last from Friday to the following Monday, and though this was initially questioned, it became the norm. Not that I had 15 different outfits packed, I often didn’t have everything I needed! One such weekend, I arrived at school with all of one bag! Half way into the morning classes my friend could no longer contain her irritation, as she had thought I had forgotten that we were spending the weekend together. I proudly and rather dismissively replied: “I learnt how to fold.” Neither of us were any good at packing, folding or hanging away our clothes, but we could tell you exactly where any item of clothing was at anytime, even though they covered the bedroom floor and any other space that was within reach!
With this in mind, I want to transport you to the holiday in question. Possibly 17 years of age, when they arrived in Cape Town, they were eager to get out and explore the city and its offerings. Staying a stones throw from the V&A Waterfront, of course this was their first port of call. The exact amount of time they spent walking the vast, brightly lit walk ways of the center, is unclear, but it is sure that when they eventually returned to their rental home, the sun had long time set and they were shrouded in darkness.
Something had alerted them to there being an irregularity at the home, so in stead of attempting to enter a potentially dangerous situation, they called the local police, who wasted no time at all to come to the defense of three ladies; Mum and the sisters.
The police commended them on their wise thinking telling them that by calling the police, they had done the correct thing. The two brave constables, guns drawn entered the property. The ladies stood a safe distance and discussed the possibilities. After watching the flash lights shine beams through the windows, the ladies eagerly awaited the police constables report. Fortunately, they said, there was no one in the property, but they were very sorry to report that the one bedroom had been ran-sacked and they would have to go and have a look, touching as little as possible, to identify the stolen items.
Of course, the ladies were devastated, and tentatively stepped into the holiday rental. Holding their breath and praying that nothing too sentimental had been taken, they climbed the stairs to the bedrooms above. Only once they had entered the bedrooms, did they come to realize that they had not been burgled, and nothing had been taken; the bedroom in question belonged to my friend. She had only been in the holiday home perhaps 30 to 45 mins, but she had covered her bedroom floor with every item of clothing she had brought!