don't you know who i AM?!

at Mark's party a guy introduced himself to me while i was trying to catch up with Robyn Putter (my first boss and he, unlike the individual in the story to follow, really IS famous) by blurting out: "HEY! i know YOU! you live in my building. iiii'm on the 24th floor (2nd from the top)".

"oh ok." i replied and carried on talking to Robyn while he hovered around, i wasn't sure why but it felt like he had wanted more of a response from me.

anyway, yesterday i was off to gym but i went upstairs to my brother's place first. as i waited for the lift, the face of that guy at the party entered my mind, and, almost like my thought materialised before my very eyes, the lift doors opened and there he stood!

"hey!" i said, "i was just thinking about you! that's really weird." and i invited him to come check out my apartment.

he was impressed.

"what do you do?" he asked.

i couldn't exactly answer 'not much' so, taken by the moment i said: "i'm an heiress, so i don't need to work. and if i don't have to why should i? right?"

but before i could continue, this guy, we'll call him Mr. I'm Ridiculous (to protect me legally, apparently Wendy says i have to do this), had a Pavlov moment, that i know realise was triggered by the word "heiress". the effect that this word had on him was astounding. i have never witnessed anything quite like it in my entire life. out of his mouth came one long sentence which lasted for about two minutes that went something like this: "well let me tell you iiii turned over R200 million for my company last year did you hear that? R200 million! and now they want me to start another company and turn over a BILLION rand and, have you ever? from R200 million to a billion. i'm thinking maybe i should maybe i shouldn't i'v done so MUCH it's CRAZY! it all started when i was 32, i'm 38 now, when... - (ok i lost track here) - ... do you know what i do? i'm the managing director of Sotheby's! did you know that?! that's what i do, i'm..."

"ah shame that's terrible!" i cut him off, "it's so crap that you have to work so hard!"

"no no NO!" he defended, "i'm crazy i can do ANYTHING! everybody thinks i'm AMAZING in fact, ha ha, i amaze myself..."

"so you're up on the..."

"24th floor! that's me, 2nd from the top..."

"ja, i could've bought one up there but all you get is a view of the sky."

"no no NO! come see..."

we went up.

he didn't have a sea facing apartment! i couldn't quite believe it.

"a SIDE apartment?!" i screwed up my nose.

"he he he ja," he deflected, "but iii've broken it down and started from scratch! look at where the spare bedroom used to be, i just SMASHED it down..."

me: "nice floors..."

him: "they're imported from ITALY! EVERYTHING'S imported from Italy, look at my bathroom it's all 100% imported from..."

me: "hm. so this is what a side view looks like..."

him: "yes but look at the cupboards! all the cupboards, they're from ITALY. and iii.."

me: "hey! you haven't got a plasma! why're you still sitting with this old TV?!"

him: "look! these fake windows i put in myself, they're from ITA..."

me: "...can't believe you haven't got a plasma."

(and now for the moment he slipped over the edge and plummeted down into the void)

him: "did you know i'm famous?"

me: (did he just say...? inner gasp! ) "nice taps..."

him: "i said, did you know i'm FAMOUS?!"

me: "oh ja izzit? where did say this wall went before?"

him: "in the real estate industry! i'm famous in the real estate industry!"

me: "cool man good for you. oh ja, NOW i can see where you've broken through..."

him: "i sold the most expensive property in Clifton!"

me: "ooo i don't know much about that kinda thing... hey look! you haven't broken out your kitchen! are you going to break it out? i am."

him: "it was in all the papers! most expensive property in the history of Cli..."

me: "ah i see you've also removed your shutters, what did you do with them cos they belong to the building."

him: (pause) "i threw them away! they can sue me iii don't care! i've got a troupe of lawyers that'll bankrupt..."

me: "oh my brother's also famous you know, get the new MAX POWER magazine it's got six pages just on him!"

him: (pause. i think he was getting weary) "...yes. i know your brother, i was going to buy the new Alpha from him but i thought i'd just stick with my old BMW M5."

me: "oh ja i know what you mean it IS an old man's car!"

him: "NO it's not THAT it's just..."

me: "yes i understand, it's big and something your dad would drive. but keep it it's reliable and safe. listen i gotta go to gym, let's move..."

we made our way to the lift.

me: "i'm also going to gym. iiii go to the one across the parking lot."

me: "ja, cool for the average person i s'pose, later mate, enjoy your workout. see you 'round."

he leaned against the railing at the back of the lift. i don't even recall him saying goodbye. i think his word allocation for the day had expired and he would now be struck dumb until midnight when he'd get his fresh supply for the next day.

later i heard from Tersia that she'd seen him sitting on the stairs in the lobby one day telling the caretaker about his plans to purchase a Ferarri.

i was pleased to know that i was not the only poor body that he'd used as a sounding board. he'd take any set of ears that would listen and hold them hostage until he'd boasted himself into word debt at any opportunity he could get.