The Diary of a Reluctant Management Consultant

My rental car was a little smaller and more toy-like than I was expecting...

Last week my proper man-sized, automatic transmission, power steering, traffic-fine-incurring car had to go in for repairs. Thanks City of Johannesburg for not repairing the multitude of potholes sprinkled liberally round town, keeping drivers on our toes and encouraging rapid lanes changes just to keep pedestrians wide awake too. The latter being another reason why blind people should not beg at Joburg intersections. My insurer told me that they will “kindly” offer a rent-a-car for the duration of the repairs. And by “kindly” they no doubt mean “already covered in your policy that you pay for”. But I did get a rental and so far it has proven to be invaluable.

Firstly, a rental car can do things that your car can’t do, or more correctly, you won’t do in your car. If you’re trying to get to a meeting on time, you can be sure your rental will go faster than the speedometer indicates… whilst holding up BMWs tailgating in fast lane. It’s like having your cake and eating it (as opposed to doing anything else with you cake)! We all know the best 4×4 by far is a rent-a-car. It goes off-road without having to select low range and will comfortably mount a curb if you’re stuck for parking. Thanks to my rental Hyundai Getz, I’ve now been able to achieve a lifelong dream: park on a traffic island, preventing a BMW X5 from doing the same! And speaking of parking, if you’ve ever wanted to parallel park at speed using the handbrake, only a rent-a-car will allow for this most entertaining manoeuvre. Ten points extra if you can do this into a disabled parking bay.

Now, I don’t want to say that my Getz is small, but I’m sure I can park two of them in my regular parking bay at work. I feel like I’m in an episode of the A-Team every time I ramp a speed bump. I can do donuts on traffic circles. And as the annoyed X5 driver pointed out, I could almost certainly park my Hyundai in his 4×4. Of course, we’d probably have to put the rear seats down… It would be unfair to compare my car to the clown car that is my rental, but the brochure does list a driver’s side airbag as a feature, which is nice. Holes in the dashboard are called “cup holders” and the air conditioner is about as powerful as a slow puncture. But I shouldn’t complain; it gets me to work and I’ve managed to hold up at least one Deputy Assistant Junior Director General’s convoy on his way to an emergency conference on nepotism.

Driving rent-a-cars over the years has made me ask a few pertinent questions, such as:

• Why do all rental cars smell of cigarette smoke and fabric softener?
• Why is there always a complimentary packet of breath mints in the car? What are they saying about customers and the freshness of their breath?
• Why are their customer service people so accusatory when you bring back a car covered in mud, missing its front bumper, with a blow-up doll in the passenger seat?

But, the rent-a-car brings pleasure and joy to driving. Who amongst us hasn’t accelerated when approaching the speed bumps on your way out of Cape Town International Airport, comforted by the thought that we’re driving a rental? Often when travelling on business, the rental car is neat way to jolt your brain to its senses, especially after a long, dull flight. What better way to do this than to spend ten frustrating and embarrassing minutes trying to figure out how the immobiliser works, why the car won’t engage first gear and pretending that you switched the wipers on purpose even though you thought you were indicating? If you’ve chosen your car rental wisely, you’ll even get a packet of Mint Imperials to ensure you greet your client as freshly and as minty as possible!

I can’t wait to get my car back!

“Is there anything in your bag that you are not aware of?”

The life of a Big Time International Consultant (BTIC – a term learnt from my fellow BTIC Klaus) can become quite tedious at times. The early morning drive to the airport; the daggers being slung at you by ordinary travellers while you check-in at the Gold/Platinum/Most Valued Guest/We’re So Obsequious frequent flyer counter; the awful airline food and the fake, welcoming  smiles and artificial laughs from the middle managers that you’re about to liberate of their employment. Much to my delight, there’s now a movie about us! It’s called “Up in the Air” and features George Clooney no less. It’s my movie of the year, but more importantly, it isn’t “Valentine’s Day”

Now I haven’t lived the BTIC lifestyle for a while as I’ve been busy as a Small Time Local Consultant for the last couple of years. But it was business as usual as I packed my bags in the same obsessive compulsive way that I always do and made my way to OR Tambo International, formerly Johannesburg International, formerly Jan Smuts International (take that Prince and P. Diddy)! Right now, I’m writing to you from a surprisingly warm and sunny San Francisco. Happily for residents of San Francisco, I’m here in my capacity as a stand-up comedian and not as an evil, management consultant. No one will be laid off on this trip, although I do have a few suggestions…

The first person to go would be the genius who came up with the list of security questions that you get asked when travelling internationally. My friends, family and colleagues have all told me that for the sake of getting to San Francisco without being cavity searched, I need to dispense with my usual, chipper sarcasm, cynicism and snappy answers to stupid questions. Thus, you can imagine the remarkable restraint I needed to exercise, when asked “Are these your bags?” No, they belong to a nice man with a long beard, wearing a “Death to Infidels” T-shirt and reading “Eyes and Ankles Uncut”. “Is there anything in your bag that you are not aware of?” How would I know, if I wasn’t aware of it?!? Are they not aware of the contradictory nature of the question? Is there a way of answering this question that would not offend Schrödinger and his cat?

Now, last week I predicted that given my light brown hue, I would no doubt be stopped at US Passport Control for looking “slightly terroristy”. And despite me answering the US Visa application form questions denying my participation in terrorist activities, criminal activities, genocide and being a member of the Nazi party (I promise you these are proper questions on the Visa application forms), I was asked to please step aside for further questioning. I was asked to wait in a small office with another twenty or so brown people. There was one tanned white guy, but I think he was a Basque separatist. It turns out further questioning involved asking me my profession and the industry in which I worked. I had to confess to working in banking, hoping to at least get a laugh. Before, if you answered ‘banking’ you’d be let through, under the assumption of “what’s the worst a banker can do?” Of course, we now know the answer to that questions and it’s “global economic meltdown”. I think the officer was convinced that I was harmless when he saw that I was bringing the entire Matis range of face creams for my sister. Not very terroristy.

The one person who does not deserve to be fired is Brett of Delta Airlines at Gate A13, Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, who managed to get me onto a later flight to San Francisco, despite snow on the ground, three cancelled flights, 86 people on stand-by and my distinct lack of frequent flyer Delta SkyMiles.

San Francisco has been great so far, the spectacular Golden Great Bridge, the teeming and entertaining Fisherman’s Wharf and the very entertaining homeless people – my favourite being the guy in the wheelchair singing Christmas carols while towing a clutch of balloons and tinsel!