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Mr Darcy is one of the two main characters in the Jane Austen classic "Pride and Prejudice". He happens to be seemingly handsome (well, he is in the movies based upon the book), of means and from a long line of what can best be described as the English nobility. Having come upon Mr Darcy as a young women the Lady Warden of my residence at Rhodes University and my eldest daughter's school Deputy Head and English maestro, Ms Denise Baws opined to remain single; in her view no man could ever match the Mr Darcy. Ms Baws is my eldest's role model, and I am grateful to Ms Baws for the high standards she has instilled in her; I am not referring to her English language or literature skills but those skills she has honed in the male selection arena. My child is outperforming thus far. Unlike her mum.
Whilst I had no idea as to his balance sheet status or his lineage at our time of meeting, I had hopes that John6 would be my very own Mr Darcy. He certainly looked like Mr Darcy on his Whatsapp profile picture. The stage was set and a lunchtime coffee was sure to be a successful starting point.
John6 was not only handsome but also very, very clever and everyone knows how I like a brilliant man. The local deli house served us three rounds of coffees. A long and engaging coffee date it was, until Mr Darcy / John6 decided to sum up our meeting. He took on that psychologist / corporate spiritual guide / "let's regroup-esque" persona and he concluded that we were indeed very well-suited; we were both educated, of Dutch extraction (cultural fit thus assured) and even looked alike. His piece de résistance was when he announced that he was more than happy to move in with me (and my two dogs, three children, five cats and Malawian family of then three). He is "handy" he said. And would look after the pool (not to worry about employing the Pool Doctor anymore was his unique selling point) and he would mow the lawn of the 2000m2 property we were living in at the time. The lawn was big. Very big. But Mr Kaunda, my Malawian right hand man, inter alia, mowed the lawn (do not fear Mr Kaunda, no man will ever replace you). He also announced that fortuitously the lease agreement on the house he was living in was terminating at month-end so there was no waiting around to worry about.
The original Mr Darcy of Jane Austen fame owned a large estate in Derbyshire, England and enjoyed an income of GBP10 000 a year (1813 was the year the book was published so do the maths compounding for 203 years at say 10% p.a. but only from 1973 when the oil price sky-rocketed and inflation was born and use the current exchange rate of almost R22/GBP) .
Poor John6, perhaps (no, not perhaps, actually it is certain) he thought I was Lady Catherine de Bourgh (nee Fitzwilliam), a woman of considerable means. (read Pride and Prejudice for more details)
I am reasonable enough not to expect I shall ever match up with a Mr Darcy of this calibre in the Republic of South Africa, but thank you John6, I have the Pool Doctor, Mr Kaunda mows the lawn and contrary to your perceptions, I am not Lady Catherine.