Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Champagne Tastes

...wonderful and peachy. But I digress. This is not about me.

This is about an interesting article by the Mail & Guardian, Champagne tastes, caviar lifestyles.

It seems to have been prompted by that delightful dinner bill racked up by Gauteng Provincial Minister Paul Mashatile. A whole R96 000 of tax payers' money.

When that story first appeared in The Star newspaper my dad sat me down and said,
"Sweetie. You know I love you. I sent you to the best school. They were meant have trained you well for this. You have had at least 8 years since to accomplish the goals we set you. Do you even know anyone in this circle of the elite?"

No! No I don't. For awhile I was prancing into Black Rose parties, having CEOs buy me drinks at cocktail functions, hanging out between the Westcliff Polo Lounge and...and... then I lost it all & grew disenchanted with the disgusting decadence... I feel like such a failure. How will I ever make a decent Sandton trophy wife if I don't even know where Auberge Michel is!?!? (It's in Pretoria Road in the Sandton CBD. It used to be a quaint little family Italian restaurant. HA! Never underestimate a private school girl's powers of fast investigation on such subjects!)

Anyway.... Parts of this article I did find fascinating:

The high life as well as the super-fortunes amassed by its leadership has political costs for the African National Congress’s identity as a mass grassroots movement. Deputy president Jacob Zuma’s bid for the presidency is, in part, being fought on a grassroots ticket that casts President Thabo Mbeki’s ANC as a party of business.

Dear Zuma's general health knowledge may leave us hyperventilating, but his power to win over mass support seems to be quite ingenious. What do the poor who have been promised the world hate? Watching the promisers live up the good life and deliver nothing. So so simple.

The party's SG has called them The VIP Cult - using all that is VIP; from airport VIP lounges, to VIP sections at functions and being whisked about by convoy through traffic. All this shows is that these politicians have very little opportunity to interact with the public.

Bad move, boys.

The article then goes onto explain the government's credit card legislation...there isn't any. Each department gets to use its own discretion. Uh oh.

It does seem that at the very very least at the Treasury none of the politicians and civil servants carry credit cards.

[In more important other news, I was locked out of my flat for 1/2 an hour last night from 10.30-11pm, with an extreme migraine & general Monday night tiredness. I thought my flatmate had deadbolted the door in a fit of crime hysteria & then fallen asleep. No amount of bell ringing & phone calling helped. It was just that the lock magically jammed itself. She had the side door key when she finally arrived home at 11pm with some freak of a Danish Indiana Jones. I'm in a bad fcking mood today. Sign #3 it's time to move. ]

12 comments:

Peas on Toast said...

"Do you know those in the elite?" Classic Champers. :)

Locking self out of flat, not cool. Hate it when that happens!

ChewTheCud said...

Thats when you hide a key someplace. Wouldn't know about locking out - been in joburg 6 years now and i still leave doors open all the time. Even now the back door at home is open - i come back pissed without keys all i gotta do is climb over a wall ;p

Champagne Heathen said...

Peas, it appears a new mission has landed in front of me, and courtesy of my dad!
And I didn't lock myself out, my flat locked me out. Kinda freaky. (Not as freaky as Hans the Indiana Dane...gawd, I hope my friends aren't reading this - I'd be in sht)

Chews - There is nowhere to hide the key, well, other than in the places already occupied by the resident hiding muggers! Knowing me, if I came home pssed without keys, I'd sleep in my car after sweetly asking Mr Resident Mugger to open the basement gate for me.

ChewTheCud said...

put a spare house key on your car keys then

Revolving Credit said...

Trophy wife hey, does that mean you want to be..umm.. mounted against the wall.

Champagne Heathen said...

No Chews - I had the keys, but the door was not allowing me through. The locked had jammed for some unknown reason.

Rev - mounted against the wall, propped up against a shelf, placed on a wooden table...all his taste depending...and obviously polished often!

ChewTheCud said...

don't forget - she's not a permanent fixture until she'd been screwed on the desk...

Champagne Heathen said...

Hey! Chews! Stop encouraging Rev!

Revolving Credit said...

So you sacrificed highlying CEO's buying you champagne and caviar for foot-fetishist stalkers offering you peanuts from the bar counter and trying to get you to buy them tequila?

ChewTheCud said...

it seems brother rev needs little encouragement ;)

spoon said...

Oh teach me how to be a good trophy wife Champs. I can be your prodigy. I think I have all the other 'requirements' for this down pat...

Champagne Heathen said...

Rev - I know!! What a fool am I!! EXCEPT I would like to (re)state that nothing happened between me & Foot Fetish guy...not even him buying me tequila! So, all I have done is give up the CEOs. Not yet replaced them!

Chews - yes, but can you imagine if he then received it & the chaos that would ensue...

Spoon - what are the other 'requirements'? It depends on what income-level you are going for. Mid-income...cooking, cleaning & baking skills required.

High-income...fcking hot body, intelligent enough to understand but not enough to form own opinion & speak this back, ability to give orders which are immediately complied with, ability to attend weekly grooming (nails, hair, face, teeth, botox etc.) and swipe credit card without a blink, must have a "cause".

I could go on forever. I had 13yrs of this drilled into me.