Carol’s Column
Hotstuff Lazar cc will take a wait off your mind
I am thinking of forming a new business. Its name? Hotstuff.
Hotstuff will be based on similar models in the United States which, besides creating instant liberation, are a financial success, have lowered stress levels and achieved higher production in the workplace.
As far as I know, there's nothing like it here. In San Francisco, a company called Les-Concierges is your valet, housekeeper, chauffeur, travel agent, your indispensable everything.
It works this way. Last week my lights expired. The usual tampering with the trip switch and unplugging everything failed. All the surrounding neighbours shone merrily, so I phoned a 24-hour on-standby electrician who promised to be there within an hour. Six hours and 102 frantic phone calls later, he arrived. “Call me Percy,” he said. Call me Percy investigated and informed me that the wiring should be condemned but that he'd replace the lot for R25 000.
I refused Call me Percy's offer, phoned another 24-hour on-standby electrician – Augustus – who told me that he didn't feel like making a midnight call but he'd come first thing in the morning. His first thing was 11am. But when he eventually arrived, he sorted out the problem and charged R132,50, which I thought reasonable under the circumstances.
It was while waiting for Call me Percy and Augustus that I read about Les-Concierges, which got me thinking.
Like most people, I've spent at least a fifth of my life waiting for late electricians, builders, painters, plumbers, gardeners and deliverers of various things. This is an awful lot of lifetime.
In America, multiservice companies are almost a necessity for working people and several firms subscribe to such a company on behalf of their employers. Well, it makes good economic sense to have workers productively performing in the office as opposed to waiting at home for delayed somebodies.
Instead, Les-Concierges sends a suitable person to your house to wait. A plumber can be three days late and your blood pressure will not rise because someone else is sitting getting frustrated.
In fact, Les-Concierges will organise everything from a person to wait for a pizza or secondhand fridge to organising your holiday in Outer Mongolia.
They make your life easier by planning everything from budgets to holidays, taking children to the vet, dogs to play tennis, move house, arrange flowers, select books at the library, shop, service your dentures or the car, plant marigolds and ensure that when you arrive home, there's a tasty meal waiting to be warmed up in the microwave. Should you want it, they'll even organise an Elvis impersonator to brighten up your evening.
Everything is taken care of. For a fee. Naturally.
“I'll call my company Hotstuff,” I said to my good friend Betty, who was extremely positive.
“Brilliant,” she said. “It's a rationalisation of service.”
“I can branch out too,” I enthused. “Hotstuff will solve all your problems.
For instance, if you're worried about leaving your pet bulldog Gatsha alone at home while you're working, no problem, we'll pick up Gatsha and take him to Tail-waggers, the local pet day-care centre.”
“I don't have a bulldog called Gatsha,” snapped Betty. “We have a Maltese called Zokkie and there's no local pet day-care centre in Johannesburg.”
“Precisely,” I replied. “Think laterally. This is my vision. Hotstuff will be the ultimate service company providing everything, even a pet day-care centre. I'll hire out a Madiba lookalike for dinner parties, dust keyholes, water the oak trees and organise naughty weekends in Paris or Parys.”
“It has definite possibilities.” Betty giggled.
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Editorial note
Handwritten heading reads The Star Oct 7 1998, a Wednesday. Contents entries also give 7 October 1997; this photograph supplies the year. The deliberately mixed-up service list is retained as printed. No drawing.