The dust blew across the parched fields as the recession and drought dragged on. The free state had been particularly hot and Piet decided he’d have to supplement the farm’s income with a bank loan. So one morning, Piet put on his Sunday best and his velskoen and drove his bakkie into town.
He arrived, dusty at the big wood framed door and walked to the reception. ‘I’m here to see Mr Prinsloo, the Manager’ said Piet. (In those days, banks had bank managers and ATMs, apps and call centres would only exist in the distant future).
After a few minutes, Piet was sitting in the managers office looking at an unsmiling Mr Prinsloo who was, in turn, paging through large ledger sheets. With each page that he turned, Mr Prinsloo smiled even less. ‘Unfortunately the bank cannot grant your request for a loan Mr Oosthuizen’ announced the Bank Manager, glaring over the top of his bifocals at Piet.
‘But we really need the cash right now because of the drought and the recession – can’t you make an exception?’ Piet pleaded.
‘OK, I’ll tell you what I can do for you’ said the Bank Manager ‘I have a glass eye-if you can guess which one it is, you can have the loan!’
‘You’re on!’ Agreed Piet who started staring deep into Mr Prinsloo’s eyes. He looked from left to right, and back to left, again and again, crossing the ridge of the red brandy nose and the thick eyebrows that reminded Piet of a pair of porcupines that he once saw mating in the bush.
The eyes looked pretty much the same but the left eye had a slightly opaque glassy quality about it.
‘It’s your left eye that is the glass eye’ Exclaimed Piet
‘Sorry about that’ said the bank manager as he popped out the glass eye from his right socket and rolled it across the table. ‘You should have chosen the compassionate one!’
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