NOVEL TAKE ON OUR GLOBAL CRISIS
Weekend Post
2009/06/27
THE Mini will have been delivered during the day while Baby’s at
gym. So she’ll come home and find it in her parking space. She’ll
probably mumble something under her breath, ngukul’ a bit and take
the space next door. When she gets to the flat, she’ll find the keys
to the car hanging from an elastic band in the doorway.
With a romantic note. Something like, "A Mini Cooper for a Mini
Superstar!" Or something. It’ll be a second-hand Mini, but still. No
more than two years old.
Then, with the goodwill earned from that magnanimous gesture, I will
resign my job to begin research on my masterpiece novel. Baby will
become the breadwinner.
And your correspondent will commence three months of diligent carousing
in the nudie bars of northern Johannesburg, for this will be a novel
about carousing in nudie bars. The poetry and the depravity of it all.
At a Rivonia striptease restaurant, I will meet an Armenian arms
dealer named Toros Mazmanian.
We will strike up a friendship and soon after, I will become the PR
manager for defence contractor Ilyusholev NPO, at that time supplying
a Central African government.
When the African deal is done, I move to the Ilyusholev headquarters
in Odessa, where I become privy to the most dangerous secrets in all
the world.
My first posting is to New York, where I handle the PR for the sale
of a new range of ultra long-range antimatter attack bombs to North
Korea and Iran.
For some reason, the sale is not popular among the world’s
opinion-makers, and our strategy of celebrating the improvement of
trade relations with Pyongyang fails epically.
With my retrenchment package, I am able to purchase a share in
a transport company operating out of Santiago de Cali in western
Colombia.
The company has a subsidiary that makes nutritional supplements for
top cycling teams.
I move to Cannes to handle the Tour de France race preparations of
one of our sponsored riders.
In Cannes I meet an estate agent named Charles Pascale, who’s in
Cannes on a convention.
He needs someone to advise him on some Joburg property investments. I’m
from Joburg, so I offer my services and we leave on the Wednesday.
I tell Charles that the best houses are all in Sandhurst, and in Cape
Town you want to be staying in Clifton. For this intelligence I am
paid R17-million. By this stage, Baby needs a new car, so I buy her
a Koenigsegg CCX with Gucci seat fabric.
The novel will still not have come to fruition, but there’ll plenty
of time for that.
My destiny is preordained, written in the stars.
Baby’s new Mini waits in heaven’s great virtual showroom, alongside
the Koenigsegg, the shipment of nutritional supplements and the PR
briefing for the antimatter attack bomb sales.
All is ready to go. Everything will fall into place like tapwater
down a plug hole.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress