48. Police officers on the gravy train in Cape Town

After finishing at the Grand Prix one night Lea, Mac and I decide we were in need of sustenance. As it was nearly two in the morning we drove over to the Parade in the heart of Cape Town where we knew a guy who ran an all night burger stall.

When we arrived there were two blokes waiting for their order. The owner cum short order chef was frying up a couple of burgers and a pile of onions.  When he saw us he nodded and added a further three burgers and extra onions to the griddle.

The guys ahead of us must have been on a bender because suddenly, and to everyone’s horror and disgust – not least the chef’s – one of them threw up all over the griddle.  

We stood in stunned, shocked, horrified silence as the puke bubbled away on the hot plate.

“Jeezus Christ, you disgusting bastard”!  screamed the chef finding his voice.

“Ach, I’m sorry, man...I tried to hold it back but it kinda slipped out...”

The chef turned to us, incensed. “I don’t believe it...I don’t fffing believe it. The whole of the fffing Parade to spew over and he empties his guts over my ffffing griddle!”

At that moment a police patrol car pulled up and two officers climbed out.  They pushed past us to the stall and demanded four burgers.

The chef mumbled they would have to wait, but the senior officer was having none of it.

“I said four burgers, okays? And I want them now”!

In his defence the chef tried to explain... “yeah, yeah, okay, but the thing is, officer...”

                                               

The junior officer jumped in. “Are you deaf or something, man? The chief said four burgers. Okay? Those there’ll do. Now move yourself”!

He turned to Lea, Mac and me – the two drunks had wandered off at the first sight of the police car - “I’m sure you okies don’t mind waiting. Right?"

                  “Absolutely ... No problem ... Go ahead”.

The chef tried again, “I’m sorry, but ...”

                 “If you wanna keep your licence”, interrupted  the officer, “you’d better take you finger out"!

The chef shrugged helplessly, “Whatever you say, officer ... whatever you say”.

As the Chef started placing the burgers onto the bread baps, the junior officer pointed  to the bubbling puke, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! What’s your game? Trying to rook us outta the gravy?

For the first time since the incident started a smile crossed the chef’s face, “Oh, so yous want gravy?”

“Too damn right we want gravy”.

The chef scooped the puke off the griddle and spooned it onto the burger. “If yous want gravy, yous can have gravy... but it's ten cents extra”.

The cop picked up the four burgers. “Didn't I hear you say these are on the house? I mean, you did say that, right? These burgers are on the house".

The chef nodded, "yous are right...they're on the house".

The officers crossed and sat in the patrol car eating the burgers.

The senior officer wound down his window and called out to the chef, “Hey, you put brandy in the gravy? Bloody lekker, man. Bloody lekker. The best burgers in town.”

With that they drove off.

Strange as it may seem Lea, Mac and I had lost our appetite.