Condoms, Klippies and Coke are the future of booze smuggling
I had a somewhat misspent youth … where apart from acquiring a library of dirty and tasteless jokes, I also learned useful skills like how to get into a house if someone was silly enough to leave the key in the front door (usually my parents) and how to open the driver’s door lock on virtually any British-made car from the ’60s (nail scissors will do the trick).
And, although I’ve spent time in the cells (twice) for doing my job, I wouldn’t call myself criminally inclined. (Here I am counting the not terribly honest thing I did in using my charm on a sweet, innocent woman clerk at the High Court in Pretoria to “borrow” for a night case files which were supposedly sealed in terms of the Defence Act… If I led you on, I’m sorry… but the papers did make for a good story.)
Yet, there I was, with my wife yesterday making contingency plans for a delayed weekend away which would, no doubt, be illegal in terms of our detention regulations.
We had booked Easter weekend at a place in Gauteng (I will say no more, for obvious reasons) but lockdown shot that down. The owners agreed to postpone until August, not knowing they would be still closed by the third week of July.
They’ve said that, come hell or high water, they are opening at the beginning of August. They have to – the lives of many people depend on their staff being able to earn a salary again.
But, what if everything is still closed by then – and if the booze ban is still in effect? It will take a stronger human being than me to sit in front of a bosveld braai with a Fanta in hand.
I was surprised at my wife’s apparently natural criminal mind. Thinking about the possible police roadblocks on the way, we’ve already been using Google maps to see if there are viable backroads we can use.
If there is a stop and search, said my nearest and dearest, we’ll have to put all the weekend groceries in plastic packets “so it looks like we’ve just been shopping…”
But what about the booze? We only have about two weeks’ supply at Salvation Army consumption rates.
“Just save up some,” she said in her best school teacher lecturing fashion, “and then put it in a flask…”
I suppose that, if we are stopped we can point to the picnic basket and flask and say “we’re just doing a self-drive for the day…”
It was then that I remembered an even better dodge for concealing liquor from officious officials – and that it was shared with me by someone who, clearly, has misspent more of his youth than even I had.
Broadcaster Jeremy Mansfield, coming from the Eastern Cape and Rhodes University (where consumption of substances of all kinds is legendary), said: empty the top contents of a two-litre cold drink bottle. Then stick a condom in its neck and fill that with your booze, tying off the latex when done. Gently push it to the bottom of the bottle.
If a cop asks to taste your liquid to ensure you are not a threat to society, he or she will get pure cold drink.
Once you are safe, though, pull out your knitting needle and perforate the condom. The booze can either mix with your Coke, or Fanta (how weird are you?) or can be decanted separately after you have poured out the main contents of the bottle.
And, voila, you are now, officially a criminal… Don’t thank me, I’m just doing my bit.
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