Rangwani does not like visiting the rich and the affluent people. I could not understand why, but after going through what he had experienced, we at the Terraces felt sorry for him. Besides visibly showing him the ever-widening gap between the haves (the rich and the affluent) and the have-nots (people like Rangwani and Shortie), Rangwani always complains that the he finds the behaviour of the haves so perplexing and not welcoming to the less priviledged.
Over the years, he has found reason never to visit them despite the close relationship he enjoys with some of them. No matter how stocked their beer and food vaults may, Rangwani is sure never to compromise his integrity by visiting them and making a fool out of the visits. The rich and the affluent are not welcoming, spend most of their time engaging in business Rangwani never understands and their ways are beyond the reach of most of us at The Terraces.
On one of these visits, Rangwani was left with egg on the face after a conversation. Despite being a well known heavy drinker and obviously inclined against breakfast that includes tea and coffee, his rich relative, (he does not want to identify the relative by name today), never invited him to beer, but, instead, like all his other visitors, thought Rangwani would be at liberty to consume the less (or un) inebriating beverages like tea and coffee, a recipe we all know would not go down well with Rangwani's culinary likes. We at the Terraces all know that if Rangwani consumes any of that sugared stuff, the next second he is shooting off in the direction of the toilet to regurgitate the stuff. In short, if he consumes tea or coffee, he vomits like he is sick, so to say.
Arriving at the rich relative's house one morning, Rangwani was invited for a beverage. Although Rangwani did not like the fat maid at first sight, he decided however not to carry over his hatred to her works, the food which she was about to offer him. He knew not to blame her, for she had been taught this courtesy as part of her orientation.
"What would you like to drink, fruit juice, soda, tea, Milo, chocolate, or coffee?", asked the maid. Obviously, the maid did not want to end up being reported to her boss for messing around with his visitors' tastes. She had been taught to be this inquisitive when it came to culinary preferences.
"Tea please", replied Rangwani, to which the maid further asked. Ceylon tea, herbal tea, bush tea, honey bush tea, ice tea or green tea?" although Rangwani did not understand the other teas, he however, replied, " Ceylon tea please", for he did not see anything wrong in experimenting.
"How would you like it? Black or white?" asked the fat maid. Although he knew the dangers of taking milk and the effects it would have on his palates, he replied, "White please", at which the maid further probed, Question: "Milk, whitener,tea creamer or condensed milk?" This was beginning to irritate Rangwani who felt that he was being subjected to a mental test of how much he understood the gastronomical ways of the rich, of which he did not want anything of that sort to nag him in any way.
"Milk please ", answered Rangwani, with a hope that soon the horrible interview would be over and the table would be set. This was however not to be it, to the amazement of Rangwani. The maid, however, went further in her probes the way a doctor probes a patient to get to the bottom of a health problem.
"Goat milk, camel milk, cow milk or mother's milk?", Oh, what the hell is this now, thought Rangwani to himself. Milk is milk, why can't this fat bastard leave me alone. He could have uttered his displeasure at the twist of the events, but he calmed himself down. Looking at the maid's big fat breasts, he wanted to answer "Your milk", but however calmly, he answered, "Cow milk please."
Question: "Milk from Friesland or Afrikaner cow?", Rangwani was becoming visibly annoyed, and already, signs of distemper were showing creases on his face. At that same time, he remembered the taste of the milk of the cows he and his childhood friends used to enjoy at the pastures during the herdboy days.
"Afrikaner cow please.", he replied, to which another question came hotter after the other. Ironically, he was beginning to enjoy the interview, simply because the maid's cleavage was grabbing his attention. If I could drink milk straight of those big breasts, Rangwani was fantasizing. " Hot, Warm or cold?", came the question, but deep in his minds, Rangwani was drifiting off faraway into another romantic world. Yes, those big breasts surely produce warm milk, he thought. At that present moment, he intuitively replied, "Warm please."
"Tea please", replied Rangwani, to which the maid further asked. Ceylon tea, herbal tea, bush tea, honey bush tea, ice tea or green tea?" although Rangwani did not understand the other teas, he however, replied, " Ceylon tea please", for he did not see anything wrong in experimenting.
"How would you like it? Black or white?" asked the fat maid. Although he knew the dangers of taking milk and the effects it would have on his palates, he replied, "White please", at which the maid further probed, Question: "Milk, whitener,tea creamer or condensed milk?" This was beginning to irritate Rangwani who felt that he was being subjected to a mental test of how much he understood the gastronomical ways of the rich, of which he did not want anything of that sort to nag him in any way.
"Milk please ", answered Rangwani, with a hope that soon the horrible interview would be over and the table would be set. This was however not to be it, to the amazement of Rangwani. The maid, however, went further in her probes the way a doctor probes a patient to get to the bottom of a health problem.
"Goat milk, camel milk, cow milk or mother's milk?", Oh, what the hell is this now, thought Rangwani to himself. Milk is milk, why can't this fat bastard leave me alone. He could have uttered his displeasure at the twist of the events, but he calmed himself down. Looking at the maid's big fat breasts, he wanted to answer "Your milk", but however calmly, he answered, "Cow milk please."
Question: "Milk from Friesland or Afrikaner cow?", Rangwani was becoming visibly annoyed, and already, signs of distemper were showing creases on his face. At that same time, he remembered the taste of the milk of the cows he and his childhood friends used to enjoy at the pastures during the herdboy days.
"Afrikaner cow please.", he replied, to which another question came hotter after the other. Ironically, he was beginning to enjoy the interview, simply because the maid's cleavage was grabbing his attention. If I could drink milk straight of those big breasts, Rangwani was fantasizing. " Hot, Warm or cold?", came the question, but deep in his minds, Rangwani was drifiting off faraway into another romantic world. Yes, those big breasts surely produce warm milk, he thought. At that present moment, he intuitively replied, "Warm please."
"Full cream, low fat or fat free?" asked the maid.
At that same moment, the idea of drinking milk straight off human breasts suddenly made him want to vomit, to which he changed his preferences. "You mm, I'll rather take it black please."
So this fat black maid has not finished interviewing me, thought Rangwani as the next choice was thrust to him, "Would you like it with sweetener, sugar or honey?" He had not had sweetener in his life, whilst he had a pronounced inclination against honey after skirmishes with bees during his herdboy era. "With sugar please."
The maid's question came as a stinger on Rangwani, but still he managed to keep his cool "Beet sugar or cane sugar?" Beet sugar, thought Rangwani, from those horrible coloured tubers which makes food taste strange, thought Rangwani. No, I would rather stick to what I know and am used to. He replied "Cane sugar please."
Although he was used to white or brown sugar, Rangwani had never seen or heard of yellow sugar, "White, brown or yellow sugar?" He tried to imagine yellow sugar, and the thought brought strange and dreary images of how the tea would taste if somebody put in yellow sugar. Suddenly, he was no longer interested in the tea altogether. He would rather have water instead.
"Just forget about the tea. I'll have a glass of water instead please.", came his reply, with a hope to clear all things away. The more he was talking to the fat maid, the more he felt sorry for himself. Does, this maid subject her bosses or everybody else to such a mental torture. But, since he had just requested water, Rangwani thought that he was to be spared of all the junk etiquette, but little did he know that his problems was far from over.
So this fat black maid has not finished interviewing me, thought Rangwani as the next choice was thrust to him, "Would you like it with sweetener, sugar or honey?" He had not had sweetener in his life, whilst he had a pronounced inclination against honey after skirmishes with bees during his herdboy era. "With sugar please."
The maid's question came as a stinger on Rangwani, but still he managed to keep his cool "Beet sugar or cane sugar?" Beet sugar, thought Rangwani, from those horrible coloured tubers which makes food taste strange, thought Rangwani. No, I would rather stick to what I know and am used to. He replied "Cane sugar please."
Although he was used to white or brown sugar, Rangwani had never seen or heard of yellow sugar, "White, brown or yellow sugar?" He tried to imagine yellow sugar, and the thought brought strange and dreary images of how the tea would taste if somebody put in yellow sugar. Suddenly, he was no longer interested in the tea altogether. He would rather have water instead.
"Just forget about the tea. I'll have a glass of water instead please.", came his reply, with a hope to clear all things away. The more he was talking to the fat maid, the more he felt sorry for himself. Does, this maid subject her bosses or everybody else to such a mental torture. But, since he had just requested water, Rangwani thought that he was to be spared of all the junk etiquette, but little did he know that his problems was far from over.
The maid fired another question, and Rangwani's mind bolted in all directions. "Mineral, carbonated or still water ?" Yes, considering how much he had talked, Rangwani drooled at the prospects of a glass of water going down his throat. No further questioning will now be entertained after I answer you, thought Rangwani to himself. "Mineral water please."
When the maid asked, "Flavoured or non-flavoured ?", this was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Rangwani had had enough, and when the maid questioned him further, she got what she had not bargained for. "Hey, stupid old woman, Just get me water from the river, I don't want to know which river, and stop asking me too many questions. If you are going to give me anything to eat, just give me anything".
