Omoseye Bolaji writes on the hoity-toity lady

The post office gave the impression of being pared to the bone, too few people were present. The customary queues were non-existent today. It was a very cold day in the heart of the S.A winter.

I was perched at the other end trying to write a quick letter using one of the public marble-like tables. The cold made this simple process rather languid. I could hardly believe that so few people could be
around.

Presently I noticed that a lady was now on my left. I nodded to her, as a form of greeting but she hardly acknowledged this. She had an ambience of haughtiness and pride. In my mind I briefly dubbed her a hoity-toity lady, well dressed to boot. In the past one could have said she looked "a million dollars",
but apparently that is a cliche!

She was filling a form quickly, her expensive mobile phone beside her on the table, on my left. I
concentrated on my own letter, and hardly noticed she had left. But there was now nobody beside me. Then there was a sort of cold whoosh, draught, as a young man materialised on my left.

Now I was in full possession of my faculties, such as they were! It was just pure instinct. It just occurred to me that there had been a fine cellphone on the table - inadvertently left by the lady - but this new guy had just grabbed it with great speed! I wheeled around and faced the man. The crook!

“Don’t do that my friend,” I said. Obviously, he thought the phone was mine, that I was too busy concentrating on writing, and he could steal it quickly from the table.

The guy smiled at me, a typical tsotsi, skelm - (area boy, omo ita.) “I'm sorry, my brother”, he said. "Temptation." He handed the phone to me. “A very good phone, boss”

But of course the phone was not mine. I had no doubt in my mind that the owner would soon be rushing back after discovering the loss, or perhaps frantically phoning her own phone now with me! I finished my letter, and moved to the seats nearby. Let me wait a bit, I thought.

I had hardly sat down than the "hoity-toity" lady came rushing in, breathless and distraught. She made a beeline for where we had been earlier; the table. She looked as if she was about to cry when she did
not see her phone. I moved towards her and gave her her phone. "I knew you’ll come back for it", I said.

She was very happy, the erstwhile ambience of arrogance deserting her. “Oh, I am so grateful,” she said. “My phone is my life!”

I grinned. “Isn’t that an exaggeration?”

She replied, “Not really. I have countless vital phone numbers there. What about sms, facebook, twitter, etc? General internet in my phone. A fantastic camera in my phone too. Music. Games...”

I grinned again. “Maybe I should have stolen the phone,”. I joked. We both laughed...