A relaxed week later, he embarked upon what he'd been imported to perform, and set about a week of workshops, seminars, discussions, consultations and presentations, collapsing every evening into a well-earned beer at Quay 4.
During one of these debriefs, he asked me about a colleague who'd been at one of the workshops. Enthusiastically engaging after the session, she mentioned to him that had they known he was out, they'd certainly have "used him" earlier.
Which was, after all, why we kept his being here so quiet. Why we left Cape Town in the first place. His last visit involved lots of "using" and altogether too little recreation, we'd agreed at the time, and set about ensuring that the same didn't happen this time.
Perhaps it's selfish, when one is An Expert, to walk around holding on to your incisive mind, sharing your insights and wisdom over whiskeyed candle-light with an audience of one, when the rest of Cape Town is crying out for the opportunity. Perhaps it's selfish, as an audience of one, to want so much access, knowing there are so many others also in the queue. But in the hierarchy of claimants, who assigns ranking, proportion or even any right of access? Who "owns" the "Human Capital" and has the "right" to dispense it? And at what point can An Expert assert the right to be more than their intellect, to have needs and desires and interests that are aesthetic, sensuous, culinary, tactile, carnal or just plain slothful, without feeling somehow that they have stepped outside their brief?