Cocktails with a kick (5/6)

By Drum Digital
19 June 2015

Dumi was an opportunist, not a feminist.

There was MmaTshepo berating a sobbing girl for seeming inexperienced in front of an important client; there was Biza, the boozer, thrilling his cronies with yet another spiced-up story about his masculine capabilities.

She glanced at a table in the corner of the room and saw Roach, the man who had sold her the Versace shoes. He was handing over a plastic bag labelled Versace to a heavily made-up girl. Dumi casually inched closer, behind them, so that she could pick up a little bit of their conversation.

“Sweetie – you’re never going to get Versace anywhere else for this price!” And Roach went on in his rasping voice, “Why pay R11 500 for these shoes when you can have them for R1 500? “I can give them to you right now. Look how strong they are! You’ll be wearing these for years. I’m giving them to you at a low price because I have a weakness for beautiful girls, and you are so beautiful…”

She saw the girl pass Roach R1 500 under the table and noted the increase in price over the R1 000 he’d charged her for her own shoes, which she had worn twice, and now lay in four broken pieces on her bedroom floor. She considered stopping the sale, but changed her mind.

A hustler who got hustled could hustle back, and why not?

The old blues song echoed in her head – she had no knife, no gun. But she did have a weapon close to hand. Behind the bar, one of her waitresses confirmed that Roach was having vodka and cranberry juice. Dumi made a swift trip to the storeroom and came back with the cocktail.

To be continued...

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