Looking Right On The M

Looking Right On The M

I'm parking the Merc outside Sherizard Fine Antique Carpets; I hadn't
sold a car for days. Mr Mohammad said dead on two and it is. Katy had
gone absent without leave. Paris she said,
"I just can't take it anymore. We have to talk!"
Paris! I was ready to talk, but she'd gone and I missed her like crazy.
Twenty-two, tall blonde and legs, I wouldn't see forty-five again. I'd
got lucky, overweight and bald, as far as I was concerned she could
walk on water.
The cars a Lula Belle, looking right on the M straight out the box,
showing 30K real miles, five on the floor and fully loaded. The whole
caboodle, I gave blood for it!
"Mr Mohammad," I held out my hand,
"You are bringing the car? I look after the shop. Mr Mohammad one
hour."
Together we synchronise watches, his gold and chunky.
"That's great," I said, "I've driven over from North London. An
hour&;#8230;"
I desperately wanted to sell the car, I was going to Paris, I couldn't
help myself,
"An hour? Not longer."
He nodded. Did it convey a yes or no? I wasn't sure. The Merc shone
like a Mirage in the afternoon sun dying for a new owner instead of
water. I went in search of coffee.
When I returned Mr Mohammad was still absent,
"Please sit down, he's coming now."
Half an hour passed. Multi coloured carpets piled high wall to ceiling,
shaded indigo, brick red, floral sprays and scrolling vines. A
veritable five star feast for any low flying Moth; a Medina in the
heart of Pimlico.
Walking towards the shop was my man, no doubt, worry beads and a wide
smile, the sun hitting gold teeth.
"Mr Rogers I'm so sorry. My brother Joe he make you tea coffee? The
traffic terrible; Marble Arch," throwing his arms in the air!
Look-alike brothers. Twins! Identical, in their late fifties, chubby
brothers, with dark oily Yak hair, showing silver roots at the temples.
Dressed in crumpled beige look-alike Hong Kong suits. Ready in three
hours Sir. Only one problem it won't fit you!
A rubbery handshake, backslapping and laughter,
"I don't sell carpet for days," he wailed, "I better off selling Kebab
at football match."
I lied and told him my business had never been so good! He wasn't
listening. Making nice over we settled down to it.
"So, Mr Rogers you sell Mercedes and by the way if you don't mind my
mechanic will look. How long you have car?"
It was time for Check-Point Charlie/Passport Control,
"You have papers?" Brother Joe asked.
One dealer in carpets one dealer in cars, same level of deception, a
look-alike brother and a mechanic on the way. Finally satisfied I
wasn't an international car-jacker, we marched towards my car, born
again thieves, I didn't hold my breath!
They slowly walked round the Merc, covering their mouths as they spoke,
lest I be multi lingual, flashing me the occasional gold smile. Opening
and shutting the doors; a perfect harmonious clunk every time. On their
heads checking the Speedo, bonnet up, Joe pressing down on the loud
pedal, Mr Mohammad listening, music, the engine barely audible like a
well oiled Singer.
I knew they couldn't fault it, but I knew they'd try; a double act, the
two Ronnie's of Pimlico.
Brother Joe went first, screwing up his eyes as he spoke,
"It's been in accident I think, re-spray I think, how much you ask?"
Making it sound like a ransom demand.
Try again Joe, the cars original and for twelve grand they couldn't do
better and that was the problem when you told the truth no one ever
believed you. I decided to stick with it, trying hard to polish a
profit!
"Mr Rogers," Mr Mohammad's turn, "Maybe&;#8230;first you see my
car&;#8230;if then&;#8230;you offer good price&;#8230;my
brother Joe&;#8230; off stage smiling&;#8230; we buy two
cars&;#8230;if you can find another&;#8230;if you offer good
price&;#8230;then&;#8230;we show your car to my mechanic. Ok!
Come I show you my car."
Sitting behind the Medina on a segregated patch of concrete that
reminded me of a landing strip from the flying doctor was Mr Mohammad's
pride and joy.
A circa 79 Mercedes 200 Mustard/Orange a Nigerian Taxi looking like it
had been parked in Hiroshima or used in a disaster movie. The sagged
drivers seat said a quarter of a million miles, the Speedo said 83.000.
One of them was lying!
"I promise you I never had one problem with this car in twenty years,"
Mr Mohammad assured me,
"Or ever changed the oil," he didn't laugh!
"So, Mr Rogers, I give you ten thousand cash money and my car.
Ok!"
Before I could tell him not ok, you must be off your fucking trolley ok
and my best offer would be his pile of shrapnel and eleven thousand
eight hundred pounds. OK!
A screech of brakes, Chubby brothers, the two Ronnie's, jumping up and
down,
"Kris, Kris look he's here in big truck. Best mechanic in
London!"
In a bright red Big-foot a jacked up off road phallic
monster&;#8230; size does matter&;#8230; that started life as a
humble Nissan pick up truck. Kris, short legs, long body, Gypsy hair
more gold teeth, he sauntered over.
Out numbered, surrounded by gold teeth, we haggled for over two hours,
Big-foot finding endless imaginary faults with my car and when I tried
to argue,
"Don't make me mad," he said, "I can be very dangerous."

They never stopped trying to punish me, when I thought we were close to
a deal, I thought wrong.
"Mr Rogers&;#8230;I will think&;#8230;we have other cars to
see&;#8230;. I let you know&;#8230;one or two days
maybe&;#8230;ok!"

I slept late, the wine and the misery, the phone call, Katy&;#8230;
one word,
"Claude!"
"Don't bother coming to Paris! It's over!"
I was left with a large void in a small life, I reached for the
wine&;#8230; some one had to pay and they were perfect. I rang
Sherizard Fine Antique Carpets.
"Mr Mohammad&;#8230;. Gerald Kaplan from New York. Mr Mohammad is
that you?"
"Yes&;#8230; Mr Mohammad speaking."
"I came to your shop in Pi-m-li-co about two years ago&;#8230; with
my wife Mel,"
"Ah yes Mr Kaplan&;#8230;American&;#8230;of course I remember
you."
"Mel just loves those carpets, the carpets we got over in En-g-land and
she tells everyone about your shop."
"You are in England Mr Kaplan?"
"You bet! At the Dor-chester over on Park Lane, we fly out Sunday to
Paris-France. Mr Mohammad we've moving from Trump Tower and buying a
house on the West Side twenty-six rooms a million dollars a room can
you believe that,"
"Really&;#8230;. Mr Kaplan!"
"Were here to furnish and looking to buy a lot of carpets Mr
Mohammad."
"No problem Mr Kaplan I have most beautiful carpet, Persian
Kilms&;#8230;Turkish&;#8230;Abuson&;#8230;Needle point, all
superb quality Mr Kaplan."

"How about if we pass by tomorrow. Let me just check with
Mel&;#8230; Hunny&;#8230;what time do you wanna do the
carpets?&;#8230;.Mr Mohammad are you still there?"
"Yes Mr Kaplan&;#8230;yes."
"I'm sorry&;#8230;tomorrows out, in the morning Mel's getting her
hair done over in Brompton and were doing Harrods after lunch. I guess
it's gonna have to be the day after."
"Mr Kaplan&;#8230;. tomorrow&;#8230;. especially for you and Mrs
Kaplan I stay late&;#8230;. no problem. Shall we say at seven o'
clock? Ok."
"Well I don't see a problem and that's real kind, I look forward to it.
See you tomorrow and you have a very nice day"

"Mr Mohammad&;#8230;. please don't hate me,"
"I don't hate you Mr Kaplan,"
"We got stuck in Harrods. Have you seen their antique section? Mel just
loves to shop they stayed on late! I hope you didn't wait on too long
Mr Mohammad,"
"No, no Mr Kaplan only till ten&;#8230;. no problem. You come
today?"
"Mr Mohammad you should see what we got a pair of Regency Consol tables
twenty thousand&;#8230;. pound's! Does that sound a lot to you Mr
Mohammad? All told we got twenty-eight pieces."
"You didn't buy carpet Mr Kaplan?"
"Not a bit were saving that for you Mr Mohammad,"
"When do you come Mr Kaplan? I can bring carpet to your hotel."
"That wont be necessary. Tomorrows Saturday, would eleven be
convenient?
"Mr Kaplan no problem and let me thank you for remembering my shop and
I see you tomorrow and please my kind regards to Mrs Kaplan."

The next morning I had to drive past the Dorchester, unbelievably they
were holding a sale of Antique carpets. Revenge was about to lick its
lips!
"Mr Mohammad&;#8230;. Gerald Kaplan&;#8230;. look can we change
it to around noon and I'm sorry to upset your schedule
Mel&;#8230;"
"She is ill Mr Kaplan?"
"No she's fine. We went to Portobello Market and got some silver trays
and lace and antique boxes and a Victorian davenport. Let me ask you Mr
Mohammad do they give good deal down there?" Right now were back at the
Dorchester and you won't believe it there's a sale of antique carpets
right here in the hotel. Mel said we just have to have a look here
first&;#8230;"
"Mr Kaplan&;#8230;please&;#8230;listen to
me&;#8230;please&;#8230;please be careful&;#8230;I know these
people.
Mr Kaplan let me come with you!"

I sold the Merc I did a chop with a Porsche and traded that the same
day, took a profit both ends and on a roll ever since.
Katy calls me from time to time she's in Italy now chasing the catwalk
and a photographer called Mario. I decided to replace fat with muscle
and joined a Gym. In the mornings I go to this little caf?. The
waitress is young pretty and Polish, eager to please; I've been after
her for weeks. Persuasion is a dangerous gift; the red Ferrari
Testarossa finally swayed it! Were having dinner next week and maybe
more.