After an evening of spectacular lightning displays and rolling thunder which quickly cooled temperatures after days of a searing heatwave, a steady and constant drizzle has enveloped Joburg. It’s welcome relief after some blisteringly hot days and many hope that it is widespread enough to include the catchment areas that feed into the Vaal Dam.

By Mark Davison

While pool owners could watch a steady evaporation rate of about a mosaic tile’s length a day, reports indicate that it was much more severe at the heart of Gauteng’s water supply which has now slipped to a level of about 41% capacity from it’s recent levels of around 57%. The continued rain is forecast for the next four or five days and you can always tell that it is welcome: local citizens are already grumbling about it. They have short memories, Joburgers do. Just a week ago, eyes continually darted to the skies and there were even some muttered prayers for relief from a blazing sun.

Some of the regulars at The Local were – and are – guilty of both utterings. Not that many of them have been around to voice their opinions. There has been a distinct state of flux down at The Local since Carlos the Jackal sold it and the new owners have strived to put their own stamp on the place. As I sit at my regular table – there’s been very little problem securing that of late – I’ve noticed the comings and goings of The Regulars, that die-hard, loyal bunch that could be relied on to fill at least half of the outside smoking area on a daily basis.

There have been some guilty glances from some of them as they make their way through the car park, having just exited The Alternative Local – the nearby establishment owned by Chouriho (The Villager). It’s common knowledge that people seldom like change – and regular customers who have grown accustomed to certain norms, nuances and niceties at their watering hole of choice are probably more susceptible to this than most. I have to admit that I, too, have paid a number of visits to Chouriho’s over the past few weeks. Usually because he’s still open once The Local has started locking up earlier than it used to but, on one or two occasions, just to have some robust debate or clever conversation like we used to with Carlos the Jackal. I think that could be the same reason some of The Regulars are visiting more often too.

But Carlos the Jackal is gone. He sold, as he says, “at the right time” as the economy starts to bite harder into consumers’ spend and competition among local hostelries gets fiercer. As I guessed in last month’s column, he’s stopped visiting The Local. Doesn’t want to impose or be seen to be interfering, or making anyone “feel uncomfortable”, he says. He’s immersed himself in his new vocation as a distributor, but is already learning harsh lessons. A number of his containers have been stranded in Durban’s port due to bad weather, congestion and transport issues. The country’s economic woes can bite you in a variety of different ways, The Jackal’s learning.

Ray-Ban Ray, it seems, has also become a victim of the dire economic conditions. He’s very quietly and suddenly closed the doors of his practice. An optician that served the community for decades was there one day and gone the next. No-one at The Local has seen hide nor hair of him for weeks. We can only hope that he is okay and will somehow bounce back.

As I sat and contemplated their problems, as well as the latest economic figures to come out of StatsSA, not even Barista’s gleaming smile as she replenished my beer could brighten my sombre mood. The sudden, bounding appearance of Chouriho (The Villager) did … ever so slightly. His “Jeez! I’m sut!” intro always raises a smile … even if it is only fleeting. “What’s happening?” his next customary refrain as he reached for one of my cigarettes and sprawled into a chair.

“Nothing much,” I replied. “Just like the economy. Figures came out today … a quarterly contraction of 0,6%.”

Chouriho nodded. “I saw that.”

“You know,” I continued, “when a 28-year veteran in the channel says it is the toughest market he’s ever experienced, and when a near-40-year veteran – always an optimist – says he’s never been more downbeat, then it’s hard not to get a little worried …”

“I hear you,” The Villager nodded again.

“And when a local economist takes a first quarter contraction of 3,1%, second quarter growth of 2,9%, and this quarter’s 0,6% contraction, and works out that we have to have fourth quarter growth of 4,8% to meet the economic prediction of 0,5% growth for the year, that’s just as worrying. And I really don’t think Black Friday, Cyber Monday and Christmas spend will help us get near that …”

I took a glug of beer as Chouriho blew smoke rings. I smiled at him, looking to brighten the atmosphere. He was instantly suspicious.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname I might have to give you,” I teased as his eyes narrowed. He’s decided to diversify his business interests and recently bought a door-to-door dry cleaning and laundry operation. I was his first customer, but there are now many more – including schools and hotels – and it looks like he could be sitting on a proverbial little gold mine.

He shrugged at me. “Go on then …”

“Plyntirio!” I grinned. It’s Greek … and for those who don’t have the patience until the next column … Google it.

Chouriho grinned back – he didn’t have to Google it. “Not bad,” he said. “I see you’ve been doing your homework.”

“Not really,” I said. “I just got fed up going through some depressing statistics … took a break.”

Barista brought me another beer and I offered The Villager a water – his preferred beverage. One day I’ll remember to bring a Budweiser Lite to The Local. They don’t stock it. They know their clientele.

Chouriho didn’t stay long enough to have a sip, never mind a full drink. It’s Christmas party time at The Alternative Local and he’s packed to the rafters almost every night. Along with his new venture into the laundry business, he’s making hay while the sun shines. Hopefully, many more South Africans are doing the same!