BOYS GET TOGETHER TO MAKE A DEAL

With all the excitement of this destruction in my life it was a relief that the I just had time to turn my slashed and tortured paintings to the wall, when Nick the Baron arrived at Tambo/Joburg/ Smuts airport and I could flee the farm and have a very expensive dinner.
Always a great consolation in times of stress.
Some few months before, Howard, having enjoyed his bundu investment, a lot, fallen in love with the place, and with some disposable loot in hand, which he felt would be well spent on such foolishness as Francis’s little dream in the bush, wanted to up his shares.
Which is nice.
He had ammo and Nick didn’t, so he needed to get more of the pie to justify such investment and Nicko who had an urgent need to turn left on a plane again, was very amenable to such an unexpected return on his investment. It seemed that this would be an easy and pain free negotiation.
Now in this world of real estate when ownership is discussed the thorny subject of ‘value’ comes racing to the fore. How do you put a price on a piece of rock, weed and vermin? A thorny and vexing question, as the sums discussed, even at the lowest level were considerable!
I was dispatched to get an evaluation, and old man Winkler the local lad in this department came measured, um’ed and tutted, drank my coffee and showed me what local farms were selling for. Very gratifyingly high, his assessment was sent to all, one party was delighted and the other not so. So the not so one (wid de mullah) asked his chum to look at it, his chum did nada, days and weeks passed, with no resolution, e-mails, sms’s were shared, the philosophy of the farm was discussed, the nature and size of the money involved was explained, substances were shared and things said under the influence, both parties went into and came out of their respective coma’s to chuck in their latest theory of life and everything into the pot.
I was a little cow between 2 old and cautious bulls that insisted on snorting and pawing the ground across the valley. In short we were arguing between 6 and 16! A bit of a gap.
So after a few months of this inter continental bickering the Baron realized that his presence was required in the actual field of play, so there I was at the Airport to fetch him. Taking Greg to give moral support we ended up in a Chinese restaurant.
THE CHINA MEETING
The venue, a communist style minimalist hall brightly lit with nary a shadow to be seen. We let Nick do the ordering, being a trencherman of note and a cognosti of the archaic world of Chinese menus, we even got saki to ease the negotiations.
Naturally with two such reticent chaps as H & N silence fell like a curtain over the table, interspersed with glib tales of no consequence. We chattered and gossiped away like a bunch of old ladies.
I had decided that I must let them get on with it and not push the situation. But they were very coy and retiring, 2 virgins on the verge. It was all I could do to not stick a fork in the pair of them.
The fags came to my rescue as I was bursting to get things moving, so Greg and I departed to the street, to have one.
“Round 1” was rung on a handy glass.
We left them looking at each other as though they had NO idea what they were there for.
Returning we found them looking flushed and strangely intimate, worrying, but obviously some ground had been covered, at the very least foreplay had been indulged!
At that point vast amounts of food started to arrive. Do not leave Nicko in charge of a menu if you are unwilling to eat a lot. It was very impressive show, so much so that a book club of ladies in a nearby table wanted him to do the same for them. A feast indeed!
Between all this Howard managed to insert plaintive squeals about how he was being irresponsible spending all this money and Nicko tried to look sad and poor, but not desperate, between mouth full’s of wonderful oriental grub. Quite a trick it was a sight to see.
The truth is that both of them had decided what was what long ago and this was all some sort of complicated tango to see who would lift their skirts first. Now between a pair of sexy young girls this can be a good spectator sport but between these 2 old bruisers it got dull quite fast and the deal as had been first mentioned so many months before was left for being slept over for one last night, thankfully confirmed the very next day!
Well this pleased me as the farm would get some more loot, Nick was pleased because he could go home with some wedge from his ‘African Investments” and Howard was pleased because I was pleased and the truth be told he had acquired himself a gentleman’s estate for a keen price and with no aggravation for him, that these acquisitions normally engender.
THE ITALIAN MEET
With the value established, the price agreed, all that remained was to sign the grey stuff and all would be well ……….HA!!!! Life should be so easy. We gathered again this time with Kim the legal eagle in tow to set it all up, and all had a very convivial time. This and that came up; archaic points of law and tax were discussed with great interest. An endless stream of dissipated punters approached Howard, being a bit of a rock star in the gambling firmament; Kim took notes and babbled on her phone. We ate food.
Leaving this I thought that all was settled. There was no further need for any discussion, addition or any delay in the finalization of the task, and within in days if not hours all would be done and I could strike another job off my endless list!
I am such a girly!
Now after 6 weeks have passed nothing but nothing has been achieved. My deal has disappeared into that strange void between lawyers and accountants with their complications. The propensity of both parties to be a combination of vague and nit picky at the same time consumed more time. Creating, as we are spread far apart, endless complications and confusion with a long delays created even in this electronic age as both sides like to read these things slowly and at leisure and then do nothing for a while too.
There is a down side to being the plaything of wealthy men.