The queue for the next 17 seater taxi to Pimville was long.
So long it snaked down to the bottom level of the two storied Johannesburg taxi rank building.
The next guy to fall in line asked me whether it was the queue for Merafe, which lies in another part of Soweto.
My girlfriend told him that it was going to Pimville something that he didn't hear since after about 10 minutes after that, with the us getting closer & closer to the next available taxi, he asks in alarm on why he was told that this was a Merafe line.
A hearted argument broke out as you can imagine that almost led to a fist fight.
All the while in the back of mind I'm thinking that we are going to fight over such a petty thing like this?
I had to choices: to either fight (feed the ego) or avoid one (starve it).
I choose the latter.
I took a deep breath.
I took a step back & humbly for my tone & manner used to address this miscommunication.
I said something of how it must feel so frustrating to being inconvenienced in such a manner.
All the while grinding my teeth as I pained over every word that had me swallowing my pride by being the "bigger man."
The dude eventually left to go get on the right queue & I went on my merry way as well.
Sometimes the right thing is not the easiest thing to do.
But in the end it's always the smart thing.
Now I just need to forgive myself for attracting this learning experience.
I must also congratulate for practicing the principles I keep on writing about in this blog.
Please forgive me.
I love you.
~ Musawenkosi Tshoaele