Who you calling a peacock?

October 14, 2011. Jussus my china, these ous reckon I’m a “Peacock” . . . just because I’m like a “High flyer” and I, once in a while, strategically place the keys to my brand new SUV on the counter at the Mount Edgecombe Woolies. My goose reckons it’s machine when I show the manne and the other dolls in the joint who’s boss. After all, it’s not like we didn’t work for it all. I was grafting ’til 9 every night while she ferried the nippers all over the place . . . and we had lank Bovril toast at end of month Salticrax time.

So I’m reading this article in the newspaper that breaks down the Mzansi households with an income of more than R30 000 a month . . . and I’m not peacocking here, but bru, we’re clearing like 50 large . . . easy. Not bad for a boytjie from the wrong side of the tracks, hey?

So these research okes reckon 900 000 people in SA have spending power of more than R300 billion and pay half of the nation’s taxes . . . that’s a whole lotta macha. And then they go on and divide the rich folk into further categories . . . Drivers, High Flyers and Astronauts. Here’s how it goes my bru:

Drivers: Worth R100 000 to R1 million and spend around R23 000 a month
High flyers: Worth R1 million to R5 million and spend around R26 850 a month
Astronauts: Now these okes are on another level altogether; they are worth more than R5 million and spend about R40 000 a month.

So actually, I can’t believe it, but it looks like I’ve finally made it to space . . . I’m a frikkin astronaut. Or hang on, now that I think about it, Shels may have to wait another few years before we reach that level, but we’re definitely High Flyers. Who woulda believed it, that I would ever land up in that elite company.

There’s another term for us okes . . . “Top enders”. I smaak the sound of that, I reckon we’re top-enders for sure.

They reckon I peacock when I how off my lekker new branded watch, or Harley belt, but to hell with it. I’m not ashamed, I’m proud of my wealth . . . and I gotta show my cousin Lenny what it’s all about. It’s a dog eat dog world . . . and if you don’t make the macha, then some other geezer’s going to. How else can I pay for Shelley’s boob job and the kids’ larney school?

Exactly! Now just hold on a sec, while I shut down my new iPad . . . it’s an iPad2 you know. – The Ridge Mouth

***This rambling column was based on the research finding by UCT’s Unilever Institute and RamsayMedia Research Solutions. See the newspaper column that sparked the idea.