Dubizzle Sizzle

Over the last year I have been successfully purchasing stuff that I want from the US. Wider choice, and a significant price difference, very often compensates for the waiting and the shipping as one can get good deals at a considerable discount. However other than the waiting time for the shipment to arrive, I realised that there were other downsides as well. 

Last September I had ordered a pair of runners from the US. Unfortunately I got my shoe size wrong and I landed up getting a pair too big. It was between mine and my son's shoe size, so I could not even pass them on to him. He has been the unwitting beneficiary of such misplaced adventures in the past, much to his delight. Anyway in this case I was looking at a total loss. What would I do with a pair of oversized expensive running shoes? Anyway a few weeks later, after unsuccessfully trying to palm them off to people that I knew, I got a brainwave. I had opened an account with an online auctioneer, and so I decided that I would try and put them for sale on Dubizzle. 

My view was that the probability of success was marginal at best. However, I had nothing to lose and could afford to be patient. Sure enough there was total silence for a few weeks, no response no calls, nothing at all. Then to my absolute surprise, one day I got an SMS enquiring for the shoes. I was so excited that I immediately agreed to the small discount that was asked, and a day later, was in possession of money enough to cover the cost of the shoes.

This initial success spurred me on to put a music system, that I had got gratis (when I had bought my TV) and which I had no use for, on sale too. In less than a day, I get another SMS of interest. I called up the gentleman, who turned out to be a fellow countryman, and we arranged a drop off the next evening.

What transpired then, is funny in retrospect, but was quite irritating at the time. The caller was staying in a hotel studio in a congested part of town. As was expected, I got a parking spot quite far from the hotel, and then had to wait in the car, as he was running late. After a fifteen minute wait I get a call to tell me that he is already in his room. He rattled off a room number and asked me (to put it gently) to come to his room. Now this is a music system in its original packing, though not very heavy, it was bulky and not light either. I could imagine myself walking throught the foyer of that establishment with a carton on my shoulder, looking like a porter, and being refused entry.

To save myself from that embarassment, I asked him to come down to the lobby to meet me, with the unstated intent of completing our transaction there. He reluctantly agreed. I opened the boot, lifted the system, put it on my shoulder and make my way through the traffic to the hotel. This is mid-October, and as hot and humid as it gets. By this time I am sweaty and irritable, and wondering how I will recognize this man. As I reach the entrance to the hotel, a small man standing on the pavement puts out a cigarette he has been smoking, and calls out my name. With grateful relief I am about to put the carton down, when he gestures for me to follow him and without a by-your-leave, walks into the hotel. There I am, bent beneath the weight of the carton, behind this small little man who behaves as if he is doing me the biggest favor in the world by purchasing this music system from me. He breezes ahead, while I am hunched-over like a coolie and desperately trying to keep up. All this while he is rattling on about his position, title and work, and how he flies in and out of the country all the time, etc. etc.

I think something exploded in my head when he did not even have the courtesy to keep the elevator door open for me. The carton jammed between the closing doors of the elevator and I was stuck, half in and half out, cursing under my breath. As I eventually stumbled into the elevator behind him, I wanted to snap at him, but for the life of me could not think of anything snappy. You know - something witty or clever, even sarcastic would have done, but all I could manage was - "I am a Vice President myself you know" !! I could have kicked myself for saying that. But the reaction was akin to me having put an electric prod into this man's you know what ......

The deal was for a relatively small amount and so the gentleman must have thought that I was in dire economic straits. And being a petty bureaucrat must have thought that this was his time to shine and impress me with his power and wealth. Anyway, to cut to the chase, the transformation in him when he realised that his initial perception of me was misplaced, was almost comedic. His thrust out chest collapsed, he bent down slightly at the waist, and immediately grabbed the carton off me and started calling me Sir. To cut a long story short, the transformation from arrogant to obsequious was so marked that I could not but remember it.

And that brings me to the crux of this article, as to how arrogance pervades all strata of society. I think that ego and attitude are evident at all levels, but at a certain level it is not only money and education that differentiates relative position, but nationality, caste, tribe, birthplace and gender hold even more sway. But what has become increasingly apparent to me, is that in most cases this ego is just skin deep and like the proverbial balloon, is a pinprick away from bursting.   

I have, apart from the incident above, tried to live my life according to the dictum espoused by Sun Tzu "Pretend inferiority and encourage arrogance".