At first I misunderstood. I was waiting for a take away coffee when an email appeared in my inbox without warning from a large Department store. The subject line declared: VIP Sale – Hurry last days! I know for a fact that ‘VIP’ stands for ‘Very Important Person’ and not, as I’d previously thought, ‘Voluptuous Idiot Pants’. I don’t know much about VIP sales except they’re about as frequent as a visit by Halley’s Comet. There was not a second to lose. Instantly, I leapt to my feet and abandoned my low-fat soy latte with half an artificial sweetener. Away from the madding crowd, my fingers worked furiously to type out the only question anyone would want to ask when time was so clearly of the essence.
At first I misunderstood. I was waiting for a take away coffee when an email appeared in my inbox without warning from a large Department store. The subject line declared: VIP Sale – Hurry last days! I know for a fact that ‘VIP’ stands for ‘Very Important Person’ and not, as I’d previously thought, ‘Voluptuous Idiot Pants’. I don’t know much about VIP sales except they’re about as frequent as a visit by Halley’s Comet. There was not a second to lose. Instantly, I leapt to my feet and abandoned my low-fat soy latte with half an artificial sweetener. Away from the madding crowd, my fingers worked furiously to type out the only question anyone would want to ask when time was so clearly of the essence.
According to Macy’s, I must act now or forever hold my peace or someone else’s peace in the event that I had been careless and temporarily misplaced my own. ‘OMG.’ (I was, after all, using a mobile phone.) ‘THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW’, I replied. ‘I HAD ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA!’ (Thank goodness for predictive text.) I’ve been told that using upper case for emails can be interpreted as aggressive, to which I generally respond with violence, preferably using a piece of rubber hose. Then, without wasting so much as another nanosecond, I asked the one question that had been burning inside me from the moment I received the email – ‘REGARDING YOUR VIP SALE: HOW MUCH FOR KANYE WEST?’
It’s been said that the Internet connects people in an instant. To this time, however, I’ve received no response. At first I thought I was too late – maybe someone else had decided Kanye West would be the perfect toothbrush holder, Christmas ornament or pot plant stand and snapped him up. Perhaps I’d have to settle for David Bowie as an au pair or Ricky Gervais as my shoe butler. Granted, it’s not quite as awesome as having Mr. Kardashian on hand for use – say – as a human couch cushion, but life is (if nothing else) a series of compromises. But before I could say so much as ‘I’ll take two Betty Whites and a packet of Bill Cosbys’ I was struck by a thought with the force of a Ford Cortina trying to sneak through a pedestrian crossing: what if Macy’s were not selling VIPs, but inviting them to a sale? What if I was, in fact, a Very Important Person?
In a split second, a warm sense of satisfaction washed over me – I’d been waiting for this day my whole life. Being declared a VIP has been something on my bucket list for yonks. Frankly, I thought it might take a little longer to attain such an exulted status and, to be honest, now that I’ve achieved my life’s ambition I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with my time. This changes everything. Forget queuing up. Whether it’s for the tram or the movies, being an internationally recognized VIP ought to carry with it certain privileges. Actually, forget the tram – I deserve a limo. And a motorcade. Maybe a security detail, preferably in a helicopter. There should be merchandise featuring my name and image. T-shirts, lunchboxes and an unauthorized biography would be the tip of a very profitable mountain.
After years dedicated to being very, very ordinary, my inner wonderfulness has suddenly been spotted, and from quite a distance too. To be considered ‘important’ by a twerp or a dead-set nong is no comfort. I, on the hand, have had my all-round awesomeness recognized by a major corporation based on another continent. All of us, I think, aspire to greatness. Indeed, YouTube was invented to make the whole idea of greatness more achievable. Unbeknownst to me, I have succeeded in becoming great without even realizing. Which, of course, is fantastic.
I grew up around important people. I knew this not because of anything they said but because their cars told me so. When I was a kid, lots of people had a sticker on the front window of their vehicles with the McDonald’s logo and the initials ‘VIP’. I had no idea what it took to be considered important to Ronald McDonald. Was it an honour they dished out to anyone who actually ate their pickles or was some act of bravery required? I’d be quite willing kick the Hamburglar right in the junior fries or rescue Grimace from a burning building if required. I might even be ready to take a bullet for Mayor McCheese. As I imagined it, being a VIP at McDonalds came with unimaginable benefits – from complimentary upsizing to diplomatic immunity. I was jealous and I wanted to be part of it. Sadly, it was not to be.
Even though Macys has (belatedly) conceded that I am a very important person, they’ve done precious little about it beyond sending the email. There’s been no limo, no security detail and Kanye West isn’t returning my calls. At this rate, I’ll have to record an outrageously derogatory rap record just to get his attention. I doubt my packet of Bills Cosbys will arrive before Christmas and, sadly, I don’t think they’ll have Chevy Chase in my size. Suddenly, I don’t feel that important. In fact, I feel downright ordinary. Maybe that’s all right. Everyone’s a very important person in his or her own way. Perhaps I’ll do some shopping – it never fails to make me feel better. I think I’ll start by getting a pair of Voluptuous Idiot Pants.