My father was operated on Friday morning last week and was discharged on Monday. He has a steel rod in the bone of his lower leg and one in his femur; along with three screws and a plate. He was in a lot of pain but that seems to be fading slowly.

It will take six weeks for the femur to heal, apparently, and a little more than a year till my father can walk properly again…

I’ve been doing a lot which has taken up my time; this is probably the only time in over a week that I have been able to sit in front of my computer and write. My time has been consumed by the need of others and not much of it has been towards me.

Since my father was discharged from hospital I have spent my mornings looking after my father and the house… I make my father breakfast, exercise his leg, have my own breakfast, feed the pets, wash the dishes, help my dad settle in the lounge, put up the washing, and make lunch… Numerous things until my younger sisters have arrived home from school. I go to my father’s shop around two o’clock every afternoon and help my mother there.

The customers are demanding, many don’t say “Please” or “Thank you” and the others are just irritating. For example, a drunken guy comes in and asks for a loaf of bread but decides not to buy it and walks away. He returns after several minutes and demands for “Fish” that is a can of pilchards. I ask him if he would like the one in chili sauce or the one in tomato sauce. He looks at me and nods. I ask him again which he would like, and again I get no answer, so I walk to the shelf, point to the cans and ask, “Would you like this chili one or this tomato one?” He still gives me no idea as to what he wants and after several times of asking, he points to the side where the canned pilchards in tomato sauce stood.

So I take one of those cans, put it on the counter in front of the drunken man and ask if he would like anything else. He looks at me and again gives me no clue. I repeat myself to him, “Would you like something more? Would you like anything else?” After a few times he says no, so I tell him that it costs R7 and he gives me a R10 note. Then I obviously gave him R3 change and he walks away and sits at a table.

After several minutes he stands up and shouts about how I didn’t give him “his” loaf of bread. “Excuse me! You said you wanted fish and nothing else and that is what you paid for. You did not ask me for the bread.” He keeps on shouting that he wants his bread, “Fish is R7, you gave me R10 and I gave you R3 change and asked you if you wanted anything else and you said no!” Then my brother-in-law to be went to the man to explain and the drunken asshole pointed in my brother-in-law’s face shouting, “Wena, wena!” Along with some other crap in his language, I thought that the drunk was going to start a fight with my brother-in-law to be.

My mother just picked up a loaf of bread, gave it to the man and told him that it is his and that he must just leave because we were going to close the shop in a few minutes.

Yesterday a guy asks me for a quart of Black Label. He pays for it and then says, “You look nice, baby.” My response was, “Whatever, come to the other counter for your beer!” Today another asks me for the same and when I confirm that it is a Black Label, he gives me a perverted look and nods.

Some come up to the counter and bang on it to get our attention. Some just walk up to the counter and shout out, demanding for something to buy or shout out, “Service”, “Mama” and whatever else.

Most of these men are perverts and I am not judging or jumping to conclusions because I know that they are! I could just walk past and one would say, “Hey, baby”, “Hello mama.”, “Eh, my sweetheart” and other things or they would stare at my ass. I know this because I turn around to look and they are staring.

It disturbs me because they are much older, dirty, rude men that think they own everything.