Thursday, January 13, 2005

Competition Numero Uno

This competition takes on four categories. Numero Uno? Thee Most Hardcore Thing You Have Ever Done.

Me:
Smuggled a hefty little hash stash through the Mozambican border. On a train. Which gives you a false sense of security, what with no x-ray machines around. But deepest, darkest Africa may have caught on that it grows the greatest hydroponics on Earth. "Malawi Gold." So. This time, the customs/border post officials get on the train and serach our bags. I managed, with one hand, to get the stash out of my backpack pocket, while they were looking through Steve's stuff, into a neat little bodily crevice (not my genitalia, dont worry), while breaking out in a dare I say it - tsunami-style sweat. They wanted to body search us, but we refused. You can bribe in Africa, so we did. Glad we did. Cos Mozambican jails are up there with Mexican and Thai jails. Never get out alive.

Steve
(I speak on behalf of)
About two years ago, we went to a party, but because we have no reliable bloody public transport here, a lot of Saffers drive drunk. It's bad, and we are all guilty for it. A serious problem really. Steve was a helluva lot more sober than myself, so drove. Got pulled over - at about 1:30 am. Cops were being very cocky. Opened his boot to find loads of alcohol in there, that we didn't drink. Searched the car, then threw him in the back of the cop car. Me=Oh My God. Without asking me anything, they told me to follow them in his car. I was still shitfaced, but anyway. They put him in a cell til he sobered up the next morning. And gave him lots of hell for it. But this isn't actually that hardcore. So I win so far. Yeeha.

11 comments:

zuzula said...

okay..... back in the days when I was a big clubber, I drove to a 24 hour brilliant but totally illegal rave in a warehouse hidden in deepest darkest south england. Got completely out of my tree for the duration then drove back, high as a kite (very bad) with a friend and a large bag of narcs as passengers. Was zooming along the motorway (feeling very tired and starting to come down by this point) when suddenly the road became just two lanes (that's the english countryside for you). Then I realised that the traffic had slowed down and everyone was huddled in the first lane doing exactly the speed limit.

Then I saw why - a police car was zooming up the outside lane behind me, lights flashing, two very stern looking coppers waving at me. Couldn't move over because traffic was so steady in the other lane so had to keep going, way over the speed limit, til i could pull in. Was absolutely shitting myself and having the worst come down of my life.

I was trying to persuade my friend to eat all the drugs. She was saying (quite rightly) that it would probably kill her. Her plan was to throw the drugs out of the car. I said no because you see that all the time on those police video shows. So there we are, having this huge fight, police sirens behind me and me seeing my life pass before my eyes.

Then - miracle. There's a gap in the traffic so I can pull in. The police car pulls up level with me. The police both eyeball me for what seems like an eternity.... and shake their heads.

And then drive off. There is a God. Me and my friend burst into tears.

Oh - also once smuggled some amazing hash back from Amsterdam on a plane.

I am a very good girl these days though, honest!

Peas on Toast said...

Hectic stuff! My stomach was flopping when I read that!
Similar thing happened to a friend of mine, but they actually got stopped. So just as they were going to get stopped, her boyfriend ate all the stuff. Like 100 ecstasy tablets, coke the whole thing (he was a dealer back then...and for s strange turn of phrse, is actually dead now because he didnt pay his debt to a Nigerian drug dealer in Hillbrow - ghetto of Joburg.) But anyway, he went blue. And had to go to hospital. So good thing your mate didnt eat them. Cool story though.
And Amsterdam is a flipping awesome place. Would love to live there sometime. My first experience of Amsterdam was when my folks took me there when I was ten and we stayed in the red light district. Never looked back really.

Peas on Toast said...

By the way, you totally win.

zuzula said...

well.... you're only young once :) it was a great phase in my life but these things don't last forever - wine and the occasional pack of cigarettes are my only poisons these days. Most of my clubbing friends are now boring married professionals - it's kinda sad but I guess we all had to grow up eventually.

my friend is really tiny - 4ft 11 and weighs about 6.5 stone. I really don't know what would have happened to her if she'd eaten all that shit! That guy must have been seriously ill. christ. sounds like he was quite, um, a character.

zuzula said...

by the way I don't know that I win - let's call it a tie!

Where did you stash your, um, stash then?

Peas on Toast said...

Yip, it seems that my life is starting to gear down a notch too. Everyone's hooking up and getting dull at the same time. I still go clubbing every now and then, but I much prefer going to a pub with a group of mates. I'm also getting dull. Fuck. Anyway, yes that boyfriend that died was not the kind of kind your bought home to mum over tea and scones. His story was even aired on a TV programme here, because they didn't know if he had Odeed in some seedy hotel there, or if he'd been murdered by his dealers. Turned out he had, actually been murdered, because they found that someone had injected copious amounts of raw cociane into him, which apparently is a very painful way of doing the drug. And the quantities were horrifying. So yes, he came to a sticky end. And as a result, my friend has been saved too - she's as clean as a whistle which is great, because she used to do a fair amount herself.

Peas on Toast said...

I stashed it between my butt cheeks. Very risque.

zuzula said...

my god - someone should make a film about that. that is horrific. Shit. Poor guy - but i guess it takes a certain kind of person to get involved with Joburg ghetto drug dealers and then not pay up.

Nice move re: butt cheeks. Amazing use of initiative under immense pressure - I almost wish you could put that story on your CV!

Peas on Toast said...

It wasn't comfy. And when it came to toke toke, pass pass, share the love, nobody wanted any of my precious hash because they knew where it had been. Their loss, I say. Joburg is a hectic place, Cape Town is a lot more lax. I lived there for three years, but I could've been living in Amsterdam for all I know. We'd light up a massive submarine in the car to take the edge of the traffic jam, and the cops would come up to our window and say hi, all while we were toking away. Those were the days.

zuzula said...

a friend of mine lost his wallet and it was handed into the police. Cue massive paranoia because it contained not only his full ID but also a lump of gear. The police contacted him, grilled him for a bit then gave back the wallet - minus the gear. bastards!

Peas on Toast said...

Go figure. Cops must get the greatest drugs and porn all the time. And all for free.