As ‘Mavans’ (fans of Mavis) will know, Mavis works for me full-time. But now, instead of ‘working’ Monday to Friday in The Safe House, she now does Tuesdays and Thursdays at the 2oceansvibe Media Compound, and Monday/Wednesday/Friday at The Safe House. So it’s quite a new vibe for all of us. We’re still trying to get things working smoothly and I must admit that Naomi’s employment at the front desk has already helped a great deal. People are no longer welcomed by Mavis sitting at the reception table, chowing whatever-it-is-she-chows, whilst browsing through the Atlantic Sun social pages (as she does). Now, rather, our guests join her on the leather reception sofa, beneath the fake Lichtenstein canvas prints. Mavis often finishes an article, looks up at the visitor and says, “how about a coffee?”

You’d be forgiven for thinking she was asking the guest to get it for her (which certainly wouldn’t surprise me).

But that’s not the story I’m telling you about. I want to tell you about an incident in the toilets.

As with most multi-national conglomerates, the 2oceansvibe Media compound has latrine facilities for both men and women. In the lobby, there is a main toilet door which leads into a very small passageway (0.5m x 0.5m), with a door to the left (men) and a door to the right (women). Now while this entire facility is completely private to the reception area, the two toilet room walls do stop before they get to the ceiling. this is obviously quite convenient, as we would be able to climb over and rescue someone, should they have a heart-attack on the loo.

So I went into the men’s loo the other day to cause a bit of damage and, when I was done I came out of the latrine, reached to open the main door (which leads into the lobby) and heard someone talking to me from the women’s toilet, over the wall…

“Umm, for Wednesday… Must I go to Safe House or must I come to office?”

I wasn’t quite sure what was going on. I had clearly been drinking that morning, because it sounded to me like Mavis’ voice. It sounded like she was instigating a chat with me – from the toilet. As she SAT on the toilet. Visions of Mavis’ bloomers around her ankles and her incredibly powerful naked bum flapping over the toilet seat came rushing into my head. Surely this wasn’t happening?

“What was that,” I asked – more to confirm to myself that it wasn’t true, than to clarify.

“You did not tell me where you want me to go on Wednesday. Because Tuesday is a public holiday. Must I go to Camps Bay?”

Sweet mother of God, I was now stuck in the middle of a full blown conversation with Mavis – in the toilet. Like we used to do at boarding school. We would ask each other homework questions and praise would be given for the loudest noises.

“Hey Sammy, did Len say we had a voorgeskrewe test tomorrow?”

“Not sure, but I read it any way [PWAAAAAP]”

“Nice one!”

“Shot”

Needless to stay I was now contemplating whether Mavis was enjoying a number one or a number two.

“Also, can you give me lift to station?” Mavis asked, incidentally.

I stood in silence, with my mouth wide open.

[prrrrrrrrrrrrt...] Mavis tugged on the toilet roll, as she waited for me to respond.

I walked out and spent the rest of the day trying to *ahem* wipe the image I now had imprinted on my mind.

It’s still there.

I need another drink…

____________________________

CLICK HERE for past Mavis stories and find out why she has a following nearly as big as the TBG.

They sent in the above pic, which is the result of a request for him to move the braai (BBQ, for our internationals) from the garage to “under the patio roof” so as to keep it outside, yet covered from rain.

Stunning. Just stunning!

[thanks fiona]

Anyway, to cut to the chase, I found the badminton set (oh and we got a basket for the front of La Muse’s bicycle so she can indulge in the all-important ride from Giovannis to the Cape Royale hotel with baguettes poking out of the basket) and was very impressed with the price too! I think it was R499. Or R399. One of the two.

So because I hadn’t played badminton for quite some time, I thought it best to stock up on some shuttlecocks and took great delight (I had a pinner en route) in asking the shop assistant for some extra cocks. It’s not rude – that’s what they are!

And that’s when it happened.

My eyes settled very comfortably on the model of shuttlecocks I had found..

That’s right, The Mavis 2000′s!

The ‘Mavis 2000′s’
Get more cock for your buck

Finally… further insight into what Mavis actually does behind my back (on my clock) when I’m not there. Turns out she has built a thriving shuttlecock business! And at R139 I can confirm that you certainly getting a lot of cock for your buck!

And yes, I’m just as shocked as you are. I mean, really – who would have seen that coming?!

Part of me is very angry. But another side can only marvel at the genius of it all.

SHUTTLECOCKS!!! Who would have thought? I mean TENNIS BALLS, sure! But shuttlecocks???!!!

Genius..

This, sent in by 2oceansviber, Hanneli:

Absolute GOLD!

If only she had the good sense to request Puma, I would have hooked her up!

Good luck with that, Hanneli. Let us know when Gucci crops up on those notes!

As most of you will know, my domestic executive, Mavis, doesn’t have the most stressful job in the world and if anyone was living the holiday, it’s her.

We have a note pad in one of the spare bedrooms with a pen next to it. Mavis writes down pretty much anything her heart desires and, depending on the demand, it usually appears within 24 hours. It’s basically a magical note pad.

Toilet paper, Jik, sugar and the like usually arrives within 24 hours, whilst requests for zero-interest, zero-payment-ever loans are generally facilitated within 48 hours. Use of the list also includes demands for things to be fixed in the Safe House, which will almost always result in the finest handymen, plumbers and electricians on the Atlantic Seaboard, descending upon The Safe House. It would not be unusual to see these professionals abseiling out of helicopters due to the level of urgency imposed by Her Royal Highness.

I ask you to keep all of this in mind as we peruse Mavis’s latest note:

  
The latest installment from Mavis..

Ok, can I just say something. You see that note there? Ja, ok….. that whole thing is a goddamn lie. EVERYTHING. Not only the first part or the second part – the WHOLE thing. It wreaks of bullshit!

Mavis, can I ask you something? What do you mean the iron is “tripping?” The only thing tripping here is YOU, on whatever the incredibly expensive drugs are that you are clearly dropping at the moment.

Why would you not ask me to get the iron fixed for you, Mavis? You’ve never ever ever taken anything EVER to be fixed EVER. Why now?

And what do you you mean you took it to the doctor? HUH? Is there an after hours service in Bishopscourt? I never knew that. Oh, sorry, I forgot, you live in a “township” (pfft – yeah, right – that old chestnut!).

And then suddenly you’re mentioning “some water” and the fact that the iron didn’t fall. Give me a break – that’s like those people selling “multi-level marketing” schemes who kickoff with the statement, “although it looks like a pyramid scheme, it’s not.”

Bullshit! Bullshit! Bullshit!

My God, I have never seen such a guilty conscience come through so clearly on paper. It starts with “sorry” and ends with “it didn’t fall.”

I really need to get some CCTV installed in The Safe House to see what is going on while I’m at the beach.

Honestly, this is all a bit much! No, honestly – I’m finished!

What do YOU make of this? You reckon Mavis is full of shit?

This, from Cade J:

Busted!

Dear Seth,

While I am not normally one to meddle in the lives of others and do not consider myself a rat. The attached photos angered me so much that the bile rose up in my throat.

This past weekend while taking a little drive down to the Southern tip of Africa, Cape Agulhas, I past this house.

I am afraid your fears of Mavis marketing cleaning products etc on the black market, taken from the Safehouse are not unfounded. It seems she does indeed live a jetset life of excess, including a the beach cottage. Included see the view from the beachhouse.

As I was saying I would normally have lauded her. But the blatant advertising of her spoils was too much to keep quiet about.

Cade

The view from Villa Mavis
Shame

Thank you, Cade. I cannot tell you how this makes me feel! I don’t know whether I should celebrate or phone the police. I think, more importantly, I should sleep on it and think about my next move..

Perhaps trick her into going on holiday and then follow her? God, can you imagine how many bags of cash she has stored in there?

Or stalk Villa Mavis when she calls in sick or goes to the “clinic” or a “funeral.”

Hmmm… the game has only just begun.

You will recall Mavis was hemorrhaging cash from me before I left for Provence. Someone died and she had to go to The Eastern Cape for a funeral. She was gone for a week, which blew all her cash for that month. So I gave her the usual interest-free zero-payback loan scheme that we have been developing over the last few years. How it works is I give her money and she never has to pay it back – although every time she swears she will. She says I can gradually take it off her pay, but, if I do, then she’ll ask for another loan half way through the next month. I actually made up a saying to describe the process, I call it a “vicious circle.”

Use it, don’t use it (also mine).

So anyway, just before I left for for a month visit to our house in Menerbes (which, in turn, means that Mavis will be getting a month off – paid leave) she felt she would surprise me by washing my car. Hopefully that would rinse away any memory of the debt.

You what? [pause] You say it’s “SWEET” of her?

Oh really?

And is it still “sweet” of her when you discover that she was using a VIM on the tough spots?

Do you know what a VIM is? It’s basically wire wool.

One of these guys:

Ja, I thought you would enjoy that. Do you think the green part is good for a car’s coat? No, it’s not. It’s probably worse than putting Carol Boyes stuff in the dishwasher. Mavis has done that as well.

Well enjoy this, which is a pic I took of ONE of the EIGHT tough spots that she gave a real working. I thought I’d use it for an article about how she ballsed up, but I never had the energy to complete it until now.

Nice one..

Pretty rad, hey?

But don’t worry, I didn’t get angry with her. I thanked her for cleaning the car and just mentioned that she shouldn’t do it again, as she scratched it without (I assume? ) knowing. In eight places.

So I left it as it was and headed off to the South of France and Mavis went off to wherever she goes on holiday – probably Mauritius or the Cayman Islands where all her loot is stored. When I returned to Cape Town and moved into my primary residence at the Cape Royale Hotel in Green Point, I received an email from a guy called Neil. You’ll enjoy this, because this is a prime example of how “the vibe” works.

So he tells me that he has just opened “PLUSH”, a boutique Cape Town car wash. Boutique is one of my favourite words, so I kept reading. It seems the cape town car wash is located in the underground car park of that block in Green Point where Vida e is (“Port side” is the name of the block, I believe). Melissa’s also used to be there but they have been replaced by Bravado (ex-Bravo from Mouille Point – I went there, it’s good – try it). That’s a pity for Melissa’s but what do you expect when you charge over R700 for a sandwich and dive head-first into an overly-ambitious Waterfront shop?

Boutique is what you want

He tells me it is just next door to The Cape Royale Hotel. I asked him if he knew that I stayed there and he replied in the negative.

“Good Lord, well there are too many coincidences to not bring my car to you. Do you do scratches?” I asked.

“Yes we do scratches and dent removal.” He claimed the moment and went on, “We do everything from window tinting and sticker removal to plastic/vinyl restoration, mag repair and fallout removal!”

I had no idea what fallout removal was/is and I still don’t but it’s sounds pretty impressive.

I dropped my car off at 10 and got it back a few hours later, looking like this:

That’s what I’m talking about!

All 8 scratches were gone and the car looked brand new. That’s all I’m saying.

They’re our current cape town car wash of choice. And it’s not just me that thinks so – the amount of +R1 million cars there tells a story (they do ALL cars, obviously).

Use them. Mention 2oceansvibe and you’ll probably get a discount.

It’s amazing how that story fell into place and, in a way, I’m almost glad that Mavis scratched my car. In.eight.places.

An interesting thing about Mavis is she refers to the cleaning product “Handy Andy” as “Handy And.” She has no use for the last ‘y.’ It’s just Handy And. Handy Ands have been useful throughout the years. Dolce Gabbana, for example, were craving a Handy And, and subsequently became Dolce & Gabbana.

I couldn’t quite compute what was going on and was worried I would lose my concentration. So, following the no-phone-call trend that is sweeping the nation, I sent an sms to The P.A. “Please angel, please please please get in touch with Mavis, find out what she wants, take my credit card, and buy the best of everything! Get it ALL. Please. For God’s sake!”

The P.A. arrived later that day with a MASSIVE bag of stuff, as she began unpacking it – very chuffed with herself. I was about to scold her for buying the wrong things as it seemed she had bought some sort of body range of “Earth Friendly” products from Woolworths. And you can’t blame me for thinking so. Especially when, for example, the Natural Dishwashing Liquid comes with “extracts of pomegranate and ginger .” I gave the P.A. an amused stare. “Trust me,” she reassured me, “The Safe House deserves this stuff. ” When I got to the kitchen cleaner, I knew I had to show you.

Please enjoy these.

 

Woolworths Earth Friendly Natural Dishwashing Liquid..
..with extracts of pomegranate and ginger!

Woolworths Earth Friendly Natural Kitchen Cleaner..
..with rose, chamomile and orange!

Woolworths Earth Friendly Natural Oven Cleaner..
..with GRAPEFRUIT ESSENTIAL OILS!!!

 

Are you getting all of this? OVEN CLEANER WITH GRAPEFRUIT ESSENTIAL OILS! Have you ever come across a home cleaning product with any kind of “essential oils” inside it? HAH, I laughed!

The P.A. was not amused and responded in her serious voice, telling me that this is “all we will be buying for The Safe House from now on” and (as was confirmed on the back of the label) went on about the Woolworths Earth Friendly range being naturally derived, plant-based, biodegradable and containing no petrochemicals, no animal ingredients and no artificial colours and something about Beauty without Cruelty.

Well I’m glad we’re doing the right thing and, given The P.A.’s generally hip and stylish vibe, I’d say this is what all the cool kids are using.

“Now you’re really going to laugh,” she said, as she pulled out even MORE stuff from the same Earth Friendly range, but this time it was for HUMANS, rather than the HOME!

 

Woolworths Earth Friendly for humans!
..with extracts of EVERYTHING!

 

I am pleased to report that The Muse has also been using these body products and has given them the thumbs up. So I think it’s fair to say that everyone is happy and The Safe House is an even safer place for all!

Oh, and Mavis got her wish as well, with the Woolworths Earth Friendly Natural Cream Cleaner (with peppermint, rosemary and lemon!).

 

Handy what?
Woolworths Earth Friendly Natural Cream Cleaner..
..with peppermint, rosemary and lemon!

She was, naturally, amazed that something that she hadn’t seen on TV, could be so good.

 

Check this out.

So the other day, a Friday to be exact, I get back to the Safe House (probably after saving the day somewhere else) and cracked open my laptop to become one with the internet (the whole of which is stored inside my laptop). The phone rings (probably a world leader) and I start giving solutions to whatever the problem was at the time. With superb peripheral vision, I noticed a hubbub East-South-East to my current heading. I looked to my right and realised that Mavis was approaching, with what seemed like a mini-presentation that she was about to give. Whilst her approach to announcements have, in the past, been absurd at best; I had never imagined this level of pomp and ceremony.

She set up the following items in front of me on the table, as I continued talking on the phone, completely bewildered at what was materialising in front of me.

Standing upright, was a box of sorts.

A box. A very foreign box. Set before me.

A box. A very foreign box. Set before me.

I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Had Mavis salvaged a box from the garage which contained raw uncut diamonds? Was I to be impressed? Or was it something of mine (that was still left) that she had found in the cupboard and wanted to give to her son? This… SEABED WORLD LAMP LIGHTING MOVE. Was it mine?

I held the phone away from my face as I questioned this bizarre event that was unfolding on the phone.

“I’m on the phone, Mavis. Are you asking me if you want this thing? What is inside the box? Is it mine? Where did you find it? What is going on, Mavis?”

“Sorry Kim..” I continued the call.

“No, I bought it for you,” Mavis replied, grinning like a Cheshire Cat; as she placed the second prop on the table. A card. Clearly not for me.

Oh God..

Happy Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day

I kind of recognised the card, but then noticed the hand-written words HAPPY FATHER’S DAY at the top. Well, you can only imagine – I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. This is what Mavis does. She specialises in confusing me.

“What the fuck is going on, Mavis?” I whispered angrily, trying my best to muffle the phone.

“It is for you,” she tells me.

“Ah. Ok. Stop right there. Error. Cancel everything.” I urged. “I’m not a father. So can we remove this hostile takeover of my phone call and pretend whatever is happening here, didn’t happen?”

“But you will be. One day!” she argued.

Hmm, cunning.

This was by far the most fucked up thing Mavis had ever hit me with, and I knew that without urgently ending my phone call, she would surely kill me. Somehow. She would. The bombardment would, ultimately, kill me. I don’t need to go out of my way to explain to you what I mean. It is common knowledge that Mavis wants to kill me.

I ended the call.

“Okaaaay, Mavis, what’s going on here?” I snapped, opening the card, beginning the inevitable process.

The card – cryptic

The card – cryptic..

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY – FROM MAVIS,” it read.

“GREAT SWIMMERS DO NOT SUFFER HEART ATTACKS.”
Whilst I didn’t ever expect the card to make sense, the mention of a heart attack did bother me.

“HEY CAT TRY TO FRY ONE FISH EACH WEEKEND!“
Ok, ja. There is obviously some tie-up here with the first sentence, as she mentioned “swimmers” before, and now there is something about a fish. Interesting. But then there is also this new cat/fish connection that I’m trying to get to grips with.

“HAVE A HAPPY DAY” it ended, as it should, after such a bold statement.

Mine eyes cast over the right of the card, where things became ever so slightly clearer. It seems Mavis had found an old birthday card from my folks and had crossed out their written message to me – a clearly common card reuse process that I was unaware of..

To clarify, she ended it with “SORRY TO USE THIS CARD – But I like surprises.” Yes, of course, she was referring to the inscription on the elephant’s tummy (on the front of the card – above) which described the elephant’s love for surprises.

“Ok. Good. Nice, Mavis. I see what you’ve done there. I’m not going to get into what it means, for now. What’s in the box?”

That’s when she hauled out another box from inside the original box, encased in in a plastic frame, which could only be described as kitsch. (Decidedly Rococo in her eyes at “only R58,50!” she exclaimed).

It came with a plug, which she stuck in the wall and turned it on.

Seeing is believing

Seeing is believing

You will notice some artificial fish in that box. Now they are set behind a clear plastic corrugated screen. There is no water whatsoever, by the way. A 9-month old would scoff at any suggestion of realism. When turned on, there is a light that shines from behind and the fish all move in unison, at the same speed, across the “screen.” They’re obviously stuck or printed on some clear wraparound film, behind the screen, which is revolving around and around… with fish printed on it. You get the picture?

It should be mentioned at this point that I had recently authorised an imminent cash injection for Mavis for her son’s “initiation.” Which is fair enough. Following my schooling with the likes of The Chief, I was well aware of this coming-of-age process for black (original) African men, to do with being circumcised at the age of 18. What bothered me was the fact that Mavis had already asked for this particular grant before.

“But Mavis, isn’t that what I gave you money for last time?” I questioned.

“Yes,” she confirmed. (I was absolutely right, it seemed). “That initiation for my son was postponed until now!”

“And you need the money AGAIN?” I probed.

“Yes!” she gave, again, slightly annoyed at my line of questioning.

“And what happened to that money?” I asked, triumphant in my closing of the point.

Semi-laughing, she explained, quite obviously, that “There are a lot of other things the money could have and WAS used for. My house needed fixing etc.” she concluded.

Fair enough.. I mused.

I shook my head, trying best to grasp what was going on and, looking out to sea from The Safe House, accepted that there were/are quite definitely things that probably need taking care of at Mavis’s Safe House.

“And you’re going to pay this off?” I asked, knowing full well that it would never happen.

“Yes!” she lied.

“Excellent! That’s a done deal then!” I exclaimed.

You’ll be pleased to learn that Mavis got the extra cash the Monday after the Father’s Day gift, and has subsequently, coincidentally, gone on holiday!

For three weeks!

God knows where.

Probably Ibiza!

You’ll find Mavis took SEVERAL 18 year old men for initiation in Ibiza!

They’re probably with Goldfish at Pacha, in Ibiza. Right now!

Just kicking it.

While I sit here, with you – at the arse end of two joints and several glasses of whiskey.

Amazing!

Mavis is the clear winner..