The Sunday Independent - - METRO -

IN­SIDE Mei Mei, the store as­sis­tant who makes the tea and the cof­fee for those cus­tomers who pre­fer to sip and fly, tells me my drink of choice “stays in the sys­tem for five days”.

I smile and look for­ward to al­most one week of pure bliss.

The Chi­nese lady who op­er­ates the till dis­penses ad­vice gen­er­ously. From the way she pro­nounces “blood”, “women” and “sex”, her heav­ily Sino-ac­cented English, could be an aphro­disiac too.

It’s a voice from a movie your preacher wouldn’t be too pleased to find you ogling.

At this store, the blue pill is also black and red!

The as­sis­tant moves on to as­sist other men, leav­ing me at the mercy of the Chi­nese lady. She tells me how to use the en­large­ment cream and you could swear she was shar­ing a state se­cret.

No noise!

“A lit­tle bit on the head. It last for whole night,” she as­sures me. The brush re­tails for R100.

The Su­per Power Cap­sule, I ask? “They make you large,” she says, mat­ter of factly.

It’s a pack of two pills with a pic­ture of a ba­nana on the ex­te­rior.

This haunt of men is op­po­site the now de­funct Tong Lok Restau­rant on Com­mis­sioner.

There’s a sign that pro­claims it trades in photo copies. Many moons ago, maybe.

In the time I spent there, not a sin­gle copy was xe­roxed.

I leave with my haul – cour­tesy of R200 from my lovely em­ployer’s petty cash kitty.

If there was a smile on my face, just re­mem­ber what they say about the cat that got all the cream!

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