Last night I had a dream that Saddam Hussein had invited me for Coffee. He was serving me various flavors and variations and then he started demanding me to tell him where his horse was. Once upon a time, five guys walked into my old office for a meeting out of the blue. A right mixed bag of characters a Hollywood casting director would have been proud of putting together. The boss was a little cheerful and flamboyant young Yameni guy in a dishdash with dark glasses. Someone must have told him that successful people smile a lot. His side kick was a very tall, slim and well dressed Moroccan gigolo whose soul purpose was to entertain the boss and smile every time his boss smiled. An Egyptian driver, a chubby cheek accountant and a rather serious Indian marketing manager figure desperate to share his knowledge, completed this rather amusing lot. They had come all the way from another Emirate after a 2 hour drive so of course we welcomed them in. As it turned out they were lost and had come to wrong office after all but they were very pleased to have met us and were very interested in our brand building services. So after another round of hand shakes, we agreed to visit their offices the following week. Eager to benefit from this random opportunity, the following week, me and two of my colleagues, Kim and Tabs drove the 2 hour trip to the middle of nowhere to their offices. Kim being a petite Chinese South African, Tabs, a tall bearded Pakistani and me of course being me with my hat and curled up mustache, we must looked a very unlikely trio too. We met the same five characters in their office. We all ( except their driver) squeezed into the bosss little office for a chat. They specialized in the coffee industry. They trained and set up coffee shops all over the place apparently. From A to Z of coffee, you name it they did it. We sampled a few shots and tasted the various flavorings etc. We all agreed with everything and the meeting was going so well that the boss didnt want us to leave. It was nearly lunch time so he insisted that we go to his ranch for lunch. So the five of them and three of us drove for another hour further away till we reached the rather isolated ranch which actually did have a horse in it. We enter the house into a massive room with grand chandeliers and equally grand, vibrantly patterned armchairs wall to wall. We sat down all very far apart from each other, there was no choice otherwise we would all be sat in a row next to each other. We had some more coffee and juice and really struggled with small talk. It was awkward and bizarrely funny at the same time so I avoided eye contact with Kim and Tabs. I kept looking for the hidden cameras. This was the regular routine for the boss and his men and it seemed the five of them traveled everywhere together. They were inseparable. We were anxious to get back to Dubai and there was no sign of lunch. The boss was eager to tell us about his adventures and connections. That horse in the front yard, belonged to Saddam Hussein he claimed proudly but that was the extent of his claim to fame. He was trying to find a buyer for it. The Moroccan gigolo seemed restless. He kept telling me how much he liked Dubai. He seemed trapped in this black hole and was desperately trying find a way out. They all were. And frankly so were we. The boss was in his element though. He was loving it. The king of his castle. I was starving and ready to eat Saddams horse, luckily lunch finally arrived. Probably ordered it from a Dubai restaurant. The boss rolled his sleeves up and dived in like the gracious host that he was and served us our food with his bare hands. I was right at the other end of the table so I helped myself. At last it was time to leave and now we had a 3 hour journey back to Dubai to look forward to. The Moroccan looked at us with a longing envy as I shook his hand, he didnt want to let go. We drove off and I saw his tall figure fade into the dust. The journey back was in complete silence as we contemplated how surreal the day had been. We never talked about it again decided to pretend it never happened. I didnt know what to make of my dream till I had a flash back.
Posted on: Sat, 01 Nov 2014 18:20:57 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015