It Was Much Too Hot Poem by Gert Strydom

It was much too hot
in that Pick-a-Pay shopping centre
in the middle of a Pretoria summer
and something went awry
with the air-conditioning
which was blowing hot air.

We had two trolleys full of groceries,
bought our budget for the month
and your face was red pink
covered in gleaming sweat.

Two girls passed in the isle
holding hands
and looking as if
they were much more
than friends.

You bended down
to get some coffee
and the first
that I noticed them
was when one cursed
at you and then at me
to get out of their way.

There were a million things
that I could say back,
but it occurred to me
that they could pass anyhow
and that their manners
were totally lacking
which I made clear.

At the row at the cashier
you spotted them again
and realized that you know one
from somewhere
and gave her your mind
and she didn’t know
what to say back
and blushed tomato red.

We passed the Wimpy
on our way to the car
and I herded you there
where they had
bottomless Coca Cola,
burgers and fries.

Our money was tight
but we enjoyed ourselves
drinking one glass
after another

and a father, mother
and two children
came to the neighbouring table.

He was unsteady on his feet
and his speech
proclaimed him being drunk
and he had probably already
started drinking brandy and beer
long before the afternoon’s rugby match

and he had a lot of patience
with their children
and they didn’t notice his state,
but embarrassment was written
over the face
of the poor woman
who could have faded away
while he loudly
made a fool of himself.