Occasionally I get the chance to escape my office just shy of five. I close the door behind me and hit the streets for a gentle stroll with my imaginary dog (Merlot won’t tolerate a real one).
One notices many things on these lazy constitutionals. My neighbour’s sweet peas will be blooming soon. The people a few houses over have painted – a pretty French blue. The ‘Mavericks’ plane is once again circling the burbs. And then I wonder…
I wonder about the women who work there and what they think of their customers (or are they called clients?).
I wonder how effective this form of advertising is (surely aeroplane fuel can’t be cheap). Do frustrated businessmen sitting in peak hour traffic spot the plane and think “Mavericks! I say, now there’s something to do tonight. Best call the wife and tell her not to wait up”?
A radio ad, for Mavericks or one of its competitors, proclaims that “a gentleman knows”. It makes me smile, but mostly it makes me wonder – just what exactly is it that a gentleman supposedly knows?
My Oxford Complete Wordfinder describes a maverick as “an unorthodox or independent-minded person”. I figure the average married bloke has to be pretty ‘independent-minded’ to act on this particular airshow.
A maverick in the kitchen, now there’s a thought. One of my favourite pasta treats is good ol’ American-style spaghetti and meat balls. I’ll eat pretty much anything as long as pasta is involved. But I really love this recipe, as I give it a proudly South African twist – with meat balls made with boerewors. Unorthodox enough?