Meeting Muscat’s ‘Mr Loads of Money’

Harry Enfield is a famous English TV comedian. He plays various characters. His 'Mr Loads of Money' character was one of those comedy characters so ridiculous you thought he couldn’t possibly exist in real life.
Loud, brash, waving wads of cash in people’s faces, he was the walking, shouting embodiment of the nouveau riche. The joke, of course, is that in truth we’ve all met one. Sometimes it’s a neighbour. Sometimes it’s a friend posting a photo on Facebook with a glass of champagne in front of someone else's parked Ferrari.
Now I’d always thought Oman was immune to this sort of thing. Omanis, in my experience, are usually understated, modest. Even the wealthy ones don’t flaunt it.
No Rolexes thrust under your nose. No “look at me” with photos of themselves stood in front of a Rolls on social media. That was until last week, when I met a genuine, flesh-and-blood, Mr Loads of Money in Muscat.
And I’m still chuckling about it. It all started with a watch. My wife bought me a beautiful pre-owned piece in Muscat. But later I realised it was missing the original authenticity cards.
For watch lovers, that’s catastrophic. Without them, the resale value drops like a stone. So, back we went to the shop. The salesman, a polite but slippery chap, insisted he’d told us about the missing cards at the time of purchase. He hadn’t.
After a bit of verbal fencing, he suggested we speak to the owner. Enter the boss. An elderly gentleman, seated behind a vast desk, plush leather chair, Arabic coffee at the ready. He greeted us warmly and asked how I’d like the refund. I suggested putting it back on my wife’s credit card, less any bank commission.
Straightforward enough. But then came the twist. He leaned back and declared with an exaggerated air of confidence in front of his slippery sales assistant, all the while waving the receipt in the air, “The bank won't refund to a credit card if the transaction was made more than a week ago.”
Having run businesses myself, I knew this wasn’t true. So I told him. Politely. And that’s when the fireworks began. His face turned crimson. His voice rose. My calm insistence that he was simply “mistaken” only made him angrier. Then, in a moment of pure comedy, he plunged his hand into the pocket of his dishdasha and yanked out a wad of cash so thick it could have propped up a bank vault.
Ten thousand rials, at least. With theatrical fury, he peeled off the refund and slapped it into my hand. But he didn’t stop there. He kept the rest of the money in full view, waving it around as if auditioning for Harry Enfield himself.
All that was missing was Harry's catchphrase: 'Loads a money!' There he was. My first ever Omani Mr Loads of Money. No fake Rolex from Dubai. No rented Ferrari. Just a mountain of cash and a burning desire to show it off.
I tried not to laugh. But the sight of this furious man brandishing his fortune like a stage prop was too much. He refunded my money in full. But he also gave me the best comedy sketch I’ve seen in years. Some people know the price of everything and the value of nothing. But me?
I walked away with my refund and a story that Harry Enfield himself would have killed for. And that, my friends, is priceless.