Be Excellent To Each Other

My sister had an ugly Fiat 500 when she lived in Zambia and it was a bit of a heap. Quite often there would be police road blocks on the road into Chingola, where they would check that your car was safe to be on the road. (Why they didn't have M.O.T. tests I do not know.) My sister had two interesting encounters with the fuzz. On the first, they stopped her and asked her to sound her horn, so she sounded her horn. Then they asked her to put all her the lights on, so she put all her lights on. Then asked her to activate the the screen washer and wipers. She said, 'they don't work.' The policeman said, 'Er, OK, off you go then.' In typical Zambian fashion, it appears that no one had told them what to do if any cars failed the test.

On the second occasion, some time later, she was stopped going into town. All was in order, and off she went. Only ten minutes later she was on her way back, and was stopped by the same Mr. Plod. She said, 'You stopped me ten minutes ago, why are you stopping me again?' 'Well madam,' he replied, ' I was thinking what a nice car it was and wondered if you would like to sell it to me?' She didn't. I guess she was lucky the guy just didn't shoot her, take the car and dispose of her body. If she'd been black, he probably would have done.