We all have traits, things we do that
delineate us - you could call them peculiar habits. Sometimes those habits are
taken too far that those on the outside can’t fathom why people go to great
lengths to do what they do.
Melissa would rather not sit at a kafunda for
pork and wine (hmm) but, she has no choice because everybody in her circle goes
to the kafunda for pork and beer – not wine. On the occasions
that she does show face, she lugs a huge handbag that has just about everything
in it save for the kitchen sink. Before she sits down, out comes a rag to dust
the plastic chair. That done, it’s time for the wipes to give the chair a
second and thorough clean right down to the legs. When Waitress presents her
with a coaster to cover her wine glass, she won’t use it because and as you
have already guessed by now, in her bag she has a stack of her own.
The thing about Melissa, is that she never
gets the chance to drink the full glass of wine she paid for but only mere
sips. You see, sometimes she forgets to cover the glass with her personal
coaster that when she looks round, she finds a fly swimming in it. Waitress is
duly summoned, wine poured away, glass washed and fresh wine poured. In the
course of a sitting, it happens four to five times. But in kafunda culture,
the norm is to simply scoop out the fly and carry on drinking – something
Melissa can’t bear to do.
The Horseman as people who know him refer to
him, is a Navio look alike. He too has his quirks in that as soon as he sits
down and Waitress approaches, he has a list of over twenty very risqué
questions he asks before he places his beer order – “Are you a virgin, when did
you last have sex, what about a threesome….”
When I first met him, I thought he
only targeted Waitress but no. He does not kusosola (segregate).
He doesn’t care that you are a graduate or petrol pump attendant. And whenever
one of his male friends invites female company, there is the need to plead with
him before her arrival that she be spared from the sexual inquisition.
Peter Sematimba MP, is organized. Nothing
wrong with that except, he takes his organization to a different level. I was
in his Super FM office and as he sat behind his desk he was always making sure
that everything was aligned. The model car had to be allied with the pen rack.
His two phones lay side-by-side with a meticulous precision. And the New Vision
newspaper looked like it had been re-arranged, for all the pages were even –
almost as even as neatly stacked wad of $100 bills just off the printing press.
At some point Tea Lady pops in with mugs of
coffee at which Peter literally jumped out of his seat to proffer two coasters
for the mugs to rest on. Taking my last sip, I didn’t place the mug on the
coaster but on his desk which, left a neat little coffee ring. I saw him glance
at it but didn’t think much about it until we returned from a brief foray on
his balcony.
While out on the balcony, nobody entered his
office, not even Tea Girl because from where I was perched, I could clearly see
the door. Peter though, did go in for a split second. Anyway, getting back to
his desk, his mug was still there as was mine, but the coffee ring stain that
my mug had left, was gone – as if it never happened. If nobody walked into his
office while we were on the balcony – then, who wiped away the stain? There’s
only one ‘culprit’. Peter himself….
PICTURES: themissionschurch.net, ingodsimage.com, amazon.com, science ofpeople.com, wikipedia
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