Camps Bay's very own action man
[permalink]

I risked high blood presure and an asthma attack on Saturday night when I entered Tuscany Beach restaurant on the Camps Bay strip. Surprisingly, everything went along smoothly. But that's not what I want to chat about. I want to chat about the security guard I saw inside. I've wanted to talk about him before but I hadn't come close enough to him to be properly inspired. For the sake of this article, we'll call him 'Claude'. He works for one of those private security companies. White guy.

The first time I spotted Claude was on the road between Clifton and Camps Bay - near La Med. It was a split second moment in time. Our boy, Claude, was climbing out of his private security company car, near the bus stop where the deprived Camps Bay High School kids wait for the bus. (I say 'deprived' sarcastically, referring to the obvious joys of being able to watch the Atlantic Ocean while your maths teacher blabs on about sin, tan and cos. God, I would have paid good money for a wave to crash over Sweaty Betty's enormous medicine ball head). Back to Claude. Back to that split second moment in time. I just remember him climbing out, with his black shades on and black gelled hair. It was like a vision. He had one of those walkie-talkie radio control things secured to his shirt, high up on his chest. That was to talk to 'base'. He (obviously) had an ear piece in his ear, to listen to 'base'. His security uniform was pitch black, with all sorts of paraphernalia around the waist region. The leatherman, the handcuffs, the cellphone and, of course, the 9mm semi-automatic pistol - also black. But he was, without a shadow of a doubt, re-enacting something he saw in a movie somewhere. I swear to God. He paused as he emerged from the car and sort of gazed into the distance as he brought his metal frame black sunglasses to his face. The image is frozen in my mind. He was going for that vibe that says "My job rocks. Look how fucking cool my job is. I deal with danger, constantly. But I make it look cool. I still have time to look at the chicks. I'm a local sex symbol. I could probably model if I wanted to, but I don't - I stop crime. On top of that, I could probably bang most of the housewives around here if I wanted to." You could tell he wasn't the brightest little star in God's universe.

A badge. Similair to that of which Claude may have donned.

The second time I saw Claude he was hanging outside the entrance to the Camps Bay Police Station. Standing, leaning back against the wall, one foot on the ground, and one lifted against the wall. Cool, but always on the lookout for a heist of sorts about to happen. He was boring one of the cops on the steps. You can imagine the discussions he throws at them about crime.

Claude : "I got a call out to this house on Geneva drive yesterday"

Real cop : "Uh huh" [bored]

"So I get there and check that the outside gate is open"

"uh huh"

"I cased the joint and entered the premises, with my piece drawn"

"mm hmm"

"I check these fucken kids climbing out a window on the other side of the house. So I did a dive roll and ran around the side of the house."

"Why did you do a dive roll?"

"In case they fired shots."

"mm hmm"

"So I get about 15 meters from the kids and I pointed my piece at them and said "Get down on the fucking ground, you little mother fucking fuckers!""

"Uh-huh" [bored, checking his nails]

"They fucking shat themselves! I arrested them. That'll teach them to fuck with me."

"How old were they"

"About 12"

"Good work".

"The owner's wife came home and I told her what happened. I banged her on the kitchen table"

"That's a lie, Claude"

"Ok, but she did make me a cup of tea".

So on Saturday I saw Claude inside Tuscany Beach (third sighting), at the end of the bar - drinking a coffee out of a big mug - like they do in the movies. He was boring the barman in the corner. He suddenly froze, like he was witnessing something terrifying. The barman was about to say something. Claude interrupted. He held his one finger to his earpiece and held the other hand up to the barman showing a 'shhh' finger. He grabbed his mug and DOWNED his coffee at top speed. "What's going on?", asked the barman. "We got a 'situation'. I can't give you details", he replied. He burst out of the restaurant shouting into the radio on his chest things like, "Domino One, do you copy?".

What a beaut! Keep an eye out for him.

Seth Rotherham
Editor
2oceansvibe.com
[permalink]