This was going to be the messy part of the day. Yea and the middle of the day in Africa is a crazy time to do roadside repairs unless you have to, which I didn't! Well not exactly because in the last month I had mastered the art of changing gear with no clutch.
Anyway there I was going into the spares shop at the nearest Peugeot agents which were 150 miles from home. But I had found an excuse to go to the Copper Belt for a couple of days.
Going up to the sales counter I noticed this European guy sitting on a high stool just to the right. I thought perhaps he had been waiting a long time and should go before me. "Are you next?" I asked him.
"No! no such luck. Everything takes ages here! No you carry on I hope you get what you want." His arms were folded as he sat with his feet on a cross bar of the stool. It was almost like he was posing but who does that in a spare parts shop?!
What I mean is that his legs looked really terrific. They were long firm and mildly tanned. The way he was sitting emphasised his thighs which where well exposed by his very brief shorts and somewhat inflated as they were squeezed by the edge of the seat. His towelling T shirt hugged the contours of his chest and his bare biceps bulged from below the short sleeves.
"I think it's a clutch master cylinder I want because mine is the hydraulic model." I tried to explain to the African sales assistant.
"It comes as a complete kit sir. Will you be getting someone to fit it?" he asked.
"No I think I can manage myself thank you." I replied trying to sound competent.
I was about to leave with this little cardboard packet when the guy jumped down from the stool and came over. "Look man, I'll give you a hand with that. I've had to fit any number of them. My name's Jan by the way. Come on where's your vehicle?" He spoke with a strong South African accent and that air of confidence you get with guys who have lived there all their lives.
He said he would lead the way back to his place. I started off in gear in the way I had got used to and got going in pursuit of his battered pickup truck. I often seemed to get into these situations where some big guy would come my rescue. It made me feel a bit of a pansy.
"Yea just stick her over there under the tree. I tell you what; why don't we get this fixed right away then I reckon a couple of cold beers wouldn't be too out of place. What do you reckon!" It wasn't a question and I would not have known how to refuse. And as for the 'we' bit, well .. the truth was that he had it all fixed in about five minutes.