Act clever when you’re thirsty but have no cash!

What a pity a man has to drink! Yaani, a man will go without lunch, cheating himself that, eti, he had taken heavy breakfast. Or that he’s watching his weight even when everybody knows he’s a glutton, the type who keeps junk food in his office drawers to eat at all times between the main meals. We all know the type, don’t we?

The real reason he’d skip lunch would be that, the amount of cash in his wallet, poor guy, is exactly what he needs for his daladala fare and, of course, his essential number of beers at his local bar.

And come weekend time, the man has to go out there to be at the bar where he’s well known, the place he meets his regular buddies to share a beer and ideas.

Today you’re in this nice bar of yours at your side of Dar, the place where music is always played at low volume. The manager, a middle-aged guy, is in charge of the bar’s music and his playlist comprises mainly golden oldies. It’s like he picks the numbers in collaboration with John Kitime of the EFM’s ‘Zama Zile’ fame; or Radio One’s Rajab Zomboko, the self-styled Rais wa Muziki wa Dansi.

On your table, which you’re sharing with a guy called Davy who’s taking just water, is a bottle of Kasichana which you soften with warm water, happy with the world.

And then, enter this familiar guy (call him Peter) who joins our table. Some ten minutes or so elapse without this Peter ordering himself anything! Instead, he’s just “beating stories” or toying with his smartphone. You sympathetically ask him if he’d like to have a drink on your bill. See? You aren’t as stingy as some people think.

“Yes, please…I could do with a drink—any kind of drink, even a soda,” says Peter.

“Have a beer,” you suggest, because you know he drinks. He accepts your offer with profuse thanks, which is why you order him another as soon as he finishes the first.

His second Safari comes with a “Castro Laiti” for yourself, for you’ve told yourself half a Kasichana is enough for you—for now, that is. Then you ask mhudumu to bring your bill, and you settle it.

And then, Peter orders a beer—just one, for himself. That’s okay by you, for you’re actually ready to leave. As the guy imbibes his beer, very slowly, he says out of the blue: “There’s a fellow I’ve an appointment with, and he has said I get a beer and he’ll pay when he arrives…I hope he’ll truly arrive because I’ve nothing in my pocket.”

You act like you’ve not heard what he has said, then you stand up and say goodbye to him and Davy after stashing into your shopping bag your unfinished Konyagi and water.

Yes, a man must drink, even when his wallet is thin, in which case he must act clever. Like Peter!