An invitation to a mystery

I've received an invitation to participate in a collaboration effort from a madman of South African origin.  I've agreed to do it because the nature of the collaboration is off the charts.  Lunacy, as far as I'm concerned is an admirable trait.  Instead of giving me the format up front and well explained ... I'm left to find clues, and then act upon them.  Mr. Darkes obviously doesn't know I can't find my ass inside a paperback with a set of deer horns.  So, I'm putting you on the pot.  Here is the opening salvo of the story.  An actual invitation for my character, Alex Perez to join him, Mr. Darkes at a certain place.  Can you read the invitation and tell me where in thunder I'm supposed to meet him? 

The Invitation

Mr Alex Perez

Magnolia Texas

USA.

Monday August 6th 2012

Darkes Quests International

Yacht Sea Shoes

Tuzi Gazi Marina

Umhlatuze

KwaZulu Natal

South Africa.

Dear Mr Perez,

Thank you for submitting your resume and your request to join the next expedition under contract to be undertaken by Darkes Quests International.  We have pleasure in confirming that we have reviewed your application and wish to inform you that your application has been approved by my client subject to you submitting yourself to a trial and presenting yourself at the destination which you must identify and which forms part of your first test.  I shall be waiting for you, every night whilst I assemble the team, in the last booth, facing the entrance to the main seating inside the club, with a Chameleon on my shoulder and a tall glass of Castle Stout in front of me at all time. You may choose to believe I am TEAZING you but I assure you, on the life of the late Lolly Jackson, who was my personal friend, that we are not TEAZERS but deadly serious.  In addition to this, since Lolly left his legacy at several venues bringing life and relaxation to those oppressed by beauty, you may need to find a Crescentfield of Aloes and a Springfield in which to Park your Office in the city which was named after Sir Benjamin d'Urban and now has lost its name to its new rulers.

You may also find it useful, in order to prepare yourself for an ordeal by pole, to join the select group at the meeting place, before you set off in order that your credentials may be prepared in advance. Finally, more more requirement, critical to your trial, your test and your initiation. If successful in identifying the meeting venue, you will need to enter the country and arrive at the destination without alerting the authorities to your identity, presence or anything which may link you to my client or to this quest. You shall be required to convince me of this feat and tell me how you achieved it before I will allow you to attempt the next part of your initiation and application.

Fraternal regards

Don Darkes

Don Darkes. CEO Darkes Quests Inter national.     

Any help with this irritable riddle is welcomed. - Alberto at home in the comfort of his office.

A boorish & bawdy story in the highest regard

             The Saga of Raymond the Poor

                                            www.albertoarcia.com

                          

                           Written with a couple of friends 

                

                                                     Chapter I  

                                    (First Installment) 

The Award

There were church mice in the village that had more money than Raymond the Poor.  In the entire kingdom of Zaroch no one was lower on the economic food chain than Raymond the Poor.  If rags were riches, he would have been a financial baron.  Maybe it was pity; maybe it was just helping their fellow man, but for whatever reason Raymond’s fellow peasants nominated him for “Serf of the Year.” 

The nomination went unchallenged, and Raymond was in line for a handsome reward from Herbert the Horrendous, the Grand Duke of a fiefdom that was declared four levels below the established poverty line.   

Raymond was anxiously dressing for the long trek to the Duke’s palace, but he could not decide on what to wear; the ratty tattered brown pants or the faded smelly blue shirt.  Choice of shoes posed no problem as he only had one, the right one, and that shoe had a hole in the middle of the sole.  For a brief moment, he considered asking his brother for a short-term loan to acquire some decent attire, but he quickly discarded that notion.  He dreaded talking to his brother more than he feared the bubonic plague.  Maybe he should try and touch his sister; she had married a blind, wealthy shoe cobbler and had ample funds to spare.  

After thinking things out, Raymond decided he could not appear before Herbert the Horrendous in anything other than his usual shabby attire, after all, a man must be proud of whatever honor falls his way.  But, poverty aside, a man needs to observe the rules of propriety and showing up with one shoe would bring him shame and diminish the affections of Ursula the Unwashed, a woman he loved dearly.

With a fast gate, he called on the blind cobbler.  To his chagrin, when he made it to the shoe store he found that all the shoes were matched, and the blind-relation would not give him or allow him to break a pair.  Upset over this development he went to see Pablo the Prophet, who also worked as a barber. 

The Soothsayer told him he needed to leave the village and venture forth to the land of the Right-Wingers. 

“Everyone there wears right shoes,” he said. “Surely you could get one to match the one you have.”

Disgusted, Raymond spat on the ground.  “But I’m in need of a left shoe,” he complained.  “What good does it do me to go there?  They only have right ones?”

“By golly, you’re right,” said the wise old codger.  He scratched his ample ass and sat on a stool, thinking.  Then an idea shot through him like a bolt of lighting. 

“Eureka!” he said.  “You can try your fortune in the land of the Left-Wingers; surely they will sell you a left shoe.  But you must be careful, it’s been rumored that Robere the Rogue was seen about.”

Raymond the Poor was elated at this most relevant of revelations, and thanked the Sage for his infinite wisdom.  However, before he could depart, the man demanded payment.

“But I can't afford to pay you,” said the poor man, with anguish.  “All I have left in the world is my lucky rabbit’s foot.  I need it.  The journey ahead appears to be quite dangerous.”

His fervent pleas fell on deaf-ears; the Soothsayer demanded payment for the consultation.  Reluctantly, Raymond handed over the lucky talisman. 

Distraught over being taken by the brazen prophet, he called on Ursula the Unwashed, said farewell and commenced his surreptitious journey. 

"If you are lucky enough to find a way of life you love, you have to find the courage to live it"--John Irving