Case of mistaken identity

"Mr Marten. This is the Maserati dealership calling sir, your car is ready," an unrecognised caller said interrupting me from my book for such a frivolous issue.

I laughed and asked if this is a joke. "Sir I drive a Kia Sorento and I am a journalist, chances are you have the wrong person," I said.

The caller confirmed my name again and my number which were both true, He apologised for the mistake and hung up.

I shrugged the mistake off and went back to my humble non-Maserati life.

Two weeks later, I received another phone call; this time from the Bentley dealership. "Mr Marten, you can come and pick up your Bentley sir, the scratch on the window has been repaired," the caller said.

First, if I owned a Bentley a scratch on the window would be the least of my worries. That aside, I told the caller, "I am sorry I don't own a Bentley but I would be more than glad to come and pick it up. Will I have to pay for the repair?"

The caller laughed and again confirmed my name and number, which were exact.

"This must be a mistake," he said. Unfortunately so.

After weeks of getting random phone calls from friends and associates of this now mistaken identity, the plot thickened. It started with a phone call from Arabian Ranches. "Mr Marten, would you like to put your four bedroom villa up for rent?"

I have a one bedroom apartment on the corniche overlooking the beautiful Abu Dhabi. I do not have a villa. This time I spared the caller the hassle. "Yes my name is Marten and my number is ..."

Not long after I received two express envelopes from UPS. My name, phone number and work address were on it and so, I opened it. To my surprise, this was regarding my supposed Arabian Ranches villa.

"Mr Marten," the letter read. "You have an outstanding amount of Dh11,000 in property fees due immediately."

I don't mind getting phone calls about owning cars and villas but I very much mind getting letters saying I owe money for a property I don't even own, for a place I've never even seen. So I decided to investigate. As a journalist, the ideas rushed through my head.

Up the social ladder

What if I am being setup, what if this is some kind of superior white-collar crime, what if I just pay that outstanding amount and claim the property, what if this is some divine intervention to skip a few steps of this social ladder we so aimlessly climb?

I noticed on the heading my name, Marten, but the last name was different. I shall keep the last name unmentioned.

To my shock, the letter included bank statements, account numbers and even a swift code. By that point I thought I better find who this person is.

But there was no phone number other than mine on the letter. I called Arabian Ranches and informed them asking for an alternative number, but there was none.

As a journalistic habit, I googled this man's name and came to know that he actually does exist, which was a relief. I learned from one article that he is British, wealthy and works for a company in Dubai.

I went to the UAE yellow pages phone book directory and got the phone number for that company. I called and within second later I was speaking with Marten. My introduction was rather uncreative; nonetheless he explained that coincidently my mobile was his old mobile number when he previously lived here.

I offered to change shoes, but my Kia Sorento and one bedroom weren't as tempting as I thought. I returned the package and surrendered with it the lure of being a millionaire for a few months.