Let me tell you about my morning.
Two things have absolutely pissed me off and ruined my mood for the day. One was more just a case of inconvenience. The other... well, the other was more of a literal slap in the face from both the other people I was surrounded by - and from the officials of SARS itself.
Let me start at the beginning.
I went to SARS (the 'tax man' for my non-local friends) at 6:45 am, thinking I'd be near the front of the queue. I was number 6, which is not bad, considering I was number 13 yesterday - but then today we waited and waited and waited and waited ...and waited and waited - watching SARS people to-ing and fro-ing and not actually doing anything much - until 815 am, when a chap eventually turned up to give us our numbers.
That's 2 hours of standing, with no benches, no shelter against inclement weather (which there wasn't, fortunately) and no toilet facilities - and if you leave the queue, you lose your place. Unless you're the sort who just pitches up out of the blue and claims you "were here" two hours ago.
Oh, right. You were the invisible man?
