Day 26 – This is Me (Part 5)

As predicted the predictable tree huggers have stood up for their moment in the limelight. A “top Human Rights official” from the United Nations has started meddling in the death of the most wanted terrorist of all time, demanding of the Americans to provide details of his killing. (I wonder where this official was when the WTC towers fell, when the embassy was bombed in Kenya, when Americans protected the Portuguese refugees in Angola and so on) What do you think they – the UN - will do if it is found he died by unnatural causes. Are they going to report the Americans? Are they going to sue them?

Yes, the Americans have not been very bright in their handling of the aftermath of this and consequently conspiracy theories abound, but they got him. They shot him in the head. Hold on tight, it’s only beginning!

It’s July 2000. We’re living Higher Denham, in the UK; I wake up one morning and know that’s its time to go home. I know that I want my daughter to form her future while running on green grass, experiencing the sea, seeing the Berg and feeling the sun on her back. The changes in the company and people that were starting to happen didn’t sit well. I think I had probably reached burn out. Although I didn’t realize it then, the mark of your importance to a company shouldn’t be measured by how many e mails are waiting in your inbox on return from holiday. It shouldn’t be measured by the car you drive, the cell phone you have, the value of your monthly expense account. I realize it now. There is more to life.

We sold our house in 2 days! And we made good money on it too. Relevant notice was given to my employers, and in October 2000 we arrived in South Africa to begin a new chapter.

Money in my pocket (ah, those were the days!), the sun shining and at that stage local banks falling over themselves to ‘help us settle’ – how that would change!

I have to admit that we did consider other areas in SA but chose Toti, because a/ I came from here and b/ my parents lived here and we really wanted our kid/s to know their grandparents. we bought a house and for eight months I did nothing. At about 5 months in I started sending out CV’s, speculating a bit and not too excited about working to be honest but eventually was offered a position as an Operations Mngr by a guy opening a Spur and a bunch of other stuff at Durban airport. Now remember, I had come from working for a global leader in hospitality. I was highly trained and used to working under pressure and running multi site and multi million pound businesses with hundreds of staff. And I end up working at the Spur. The owner’s right hand man. The chief banana when he wasn’t there. And do you think I had any decision making powers, do you think I could use the phone if I needed to? Do you think I could place an order; do you think I could set rosters and to an extent determine my working hours to suit the flow of the businesses? No would be the answer.

There was a lot of frustration but there was also some good that came out of it however. As part of our Spur training, myself and my new subordinate managers were sent to the Spur university. Yes, this does exist. I promise it does. It is in Bloemfontein and is the classic bullying school of hospitality. This place is what makes Spur owners and managers what they are. We are taught by former Spur waitresses who married well. By in store managers who thought they were clever and were proud because their day was 18 hours long, everyday! And by 18 years old waitresses who thought it was funny to spit in the thousand finger sauce and swear at the grillers.

But as always there was a silver lining. Three weeks in Bloem, no food or accommodation costs, it would be safe to say we all went off the rails, every night! And, this is the funny thing about life, I met someone who to this day, 10 years on, remains a good friend of mine and is the god father to my son.

Spur lasted four months. I figured out that I wasn’t the Spur type. With some introspection I realized that I’m not very good at bowing to the chief. So I bought a struggling Pizza franchise restaurant. Really cheap but had some potential. In ‘texas. That lasted a week exactly. The land lord wasn’t too excited about giving me a lease as the previous guy had cocked it and he had Woolies sniffing around, so on one desperate ‘looking for plan B’ night, as I wondered around the car park in Toti Towers, I happened to look up and there it was, right in front of me. Vacant space. With a balcony, with a fire exit, with a car park, with main road visibility. With the land lords number I called him and by 9am the following morning I had a signed up lease. It was 4 weeks and three days before December 2001 holiday season started. Fuck Me Gently, it was time to move…

Until tomorrow.