No sooner had I settled in one wintry evening to catch up on the day’s events than my phone rang. My friend on the other end of the line sounded exasperated. It seemed odd since we had just parted ways barely half an hour earlier and he was in good form as well as high spirits. He told me to meet him at his place and I wasted no time to do so. Several thoughts raced through my mind as I tore through the hilly terrain and escaped getting a speeding ticket by a whisker. The Cop let me off the hook owing to the fact that an emergency cropped up and he had no choice but to leave. I suppose it was my lucky day.
As soon as I arrived, he let me into his apartment and cleared the air by asserting that he pulled my leg. There was no pressing emergency and that all was well save for one thing. He knew that had he not lied, I would not have agreed to step outside. More so since we were smack in the middle of an election cycle in which I followed keenly as an observer and not a participant in any way form or shape. Clearly displeased, I prodded further to establish the motive behind his move and he let the cat out of the bag. He had just seen our mutual friend walking into her apartment next door with a man.
For the longest time she had been hesitant to introduce us to the man she was dating. Her dating life was shrouded in secrecy. Not even a million dollar offer would tempt her to divulge the identity of the lucky or unlucky gentle man. My friend felt this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to knock the door down and unlock the mystery. Well since I was not in a mood to engage in mischief, I beseeched upon him to take the straight and narrow path of acting sane by knocking on the door instead. Spending the night behind bars would be foolhardy.
As anticipated, we caught her off guard and she did not look one bit pleased. I could have sworn I saw steam coming out of her ears. She appeared to be overflowing with anger, like a river during a torrential downpour. Had the gentle man not spotted us, she would have slam the door shut on our faces but we were saved by the bell. He welcomed us and ushered us into the living room. No sooner had we stepped in than he stated that he had just left the slammer. It was not his first stint and he proudly wore it as a badge of honor. The charges were mostly alcohol related since he took to the bottle many a time. In fact, he had one on hand and offered us drinks.
What baffled us is how the two ended up together. He fit the bill to be termed as a rebel. The room was filled with laughter as he shared one anecdote after the other of his time behind bars. He and his girlfriend’s father were worlds apart. One had a noticeable disdain for authority whereas the other was a strict disciplinarian. Caught in the middle was our friend who possibly wanted to rebel against what her father stood for but lacked the audacity to do so herself and opted to settle for a rebel.
In as far as dating is concerned, the law of gender plays a pivotal role via gender projection. The relationship or lack thereof one has with the opposite gender parent determines one’s choice of partner. Adoration begets a similar choice and disdain skews the choice towards the opposite end of the spectrum, as was the case in this regard. The silver lining here is that some of the best leaders honed their best ideas while in prison hence the lack of acceptance notwithstanding, he may prove the naysayers wrong and be a good choice in the final analysis. He may have had more holes than Swiss cheese but what he lacked was overcome by charm.
The masculine inclination to take action nearly cost me an arm and a leg one evening but once again, the ringing of the bell saved me. Being a creature of habit, I instinctively reached out to the drawer to get the laptop with the sole intent of completing some writing task one evening. Lo and behold, the lack of it bedazzled me and I flew into a rage. To my dismay, the next two drawers were empty as well. The ringing of alarm bells in my head clouded my judgement and I came up short everywhere I looked. The thought of someone having stolen it ran through my mind and I rushed downstairs with the intention of pointing an accusing finger at the one person who hardly left the premises.
In as much as I had blown a fuse, an inner voice egged me to head back up and take a minute or two to catch my breath. Looking back, I was sure glad I did. I sat on the edge of the bed and restrained myself. Barely a second later, I remembered that a few days back I took the laptop to the car. I grabbed the keys and went to check. I heaved a sigh of relief when I found it exactly where I left it at the backseat. Through this incident, I learnt that inaction is wisdom and that aggressive action is tantamount to stupidity since it narrows down one’s options. Redemption following a false accusation coupled with extreme action such as putting someone behind bars is a tall order and can be extremely costly. Therefore, treading carefully ought to reign supreme.
The societal imprint on the masculine or feminine labelling largely dictates our behavior in the grand scheme of things. Hardly knew how deep seated the impact of this labelling was until the day I offered to assist a relative who was in a crisis and needed a place to lay his head for a few days. My wife and I had planned an upcoming trip that coincided with his request. I was sold on the idea that he was responsible enough. He even went out of his way to find out where the cleaning supplies were stored because he intended to keep the household as clean as a baby’s leg. He appeared clean cut hence his assertions sounded believable and we fell for it hook, line and sinker.
Little did we know that behind the veil lay a man who deeply believed that cleaning was a feminine task that he wanted nothing to do with. He had hatched a plan in his mind to hire a cleaner on the expected date of our return. However, we threw a spanner in the works of his plan and cut short our trip owing to unforeseen circumstances. As a result, we caught him off guard and he was as surprised as we were to see him. When the dust settled, he remarked to the effect that he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he awakened from his drunken stupor and caught a glimpse of us.
When I cracked the door open, the living room was pitch black and upon switching the lights on, we were dismayed to see that the house had been turned upside down. In addition to the living room conversion into the bedroom, complete with the bed stand, empty bottles of whiskey littered the path to the kitchen where the rest of the stock was. My wife and I went our separate ways to determine the extent of the mess. I headed to the kitchen while she went to the bathroom. Could not wait for her to come to the kitchen to see the mess whereas she was eager to show me the broken toilet seat. At this point, everything seemed comical. Had we come a day later, everything would have possibly been in place but that is speculation at best that lends credence to the notion that life is a game of inches. A small change of plans can alter the outcome of events. All lizards lie on their bellies hence one can hardly tell which one has a stomachache. Likewise, it is hard to distinguish whether a man or a woman cleaned the house.
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