It can bepice sitting at some bar, enjoying a drink with a beloved one. You’d be partaking of your chosen brand of beer as your madam sips her choice brand of soda.
Or, some exotic alcoholic beverage that our ladies prefer, more so when they’re in the company of male company.
Talking about very intimate things and probably looking at each in the eyes. Ahem!
It’s preferable that when you’re accompanied by your “babe,” you sit alone just the two of you.
Why, fellow drinkers that you’re familiar with, guys, who wouldpormally pull a chair and share your table, invited or otherwise, willpormally keep away when you’ve a lady companion.
Most drinkers consider it poor manners to join Mr and Mrs, irrespective of their familiarity with them.
Unless the couple pressures you to do so!
Nor is your mama watoto expected to join you at the bar as you sit with drinking buddies and proceed to make herself comfortable.
And since our ladies are averse to ordering anything for anybody, it means your babes’ presence will be an imposition of a joyrider upon your buddies.
Yes, any round that is ‘thrown’ will include one for her also!
Looks like you’re analyzing things the way a typical Mwasu (not Mpare, please!) would. A single sponger at a table can’t be much of a burden, can she?
The main problem is that your buddies, most of whom would be crooked by their verypature, would be forced to behave like they were gentlemen per se. Ha!
As we all know, that isn’t the idea of staying away from home, where a man’s freedom to conduct himself crudely and be real macho is highly curtailed.
That’s why when your mama watoto traces you to your haunt, where you’re having a good time with the boys, it’s to let her just come and greet them.
Then you point to her and an empty table where she’ll sit and wait a bit for you. But men differ.
There’s this drinking buddy of ours whose mama, Watoto, has the penchant of wanting to be out there with her hubby as often as possible. Call her Mama Rose.
She hadpot always been like that, but after their lastborn was admitted to a boarding school, she decided it was high time she ‘enjoyed life’ like everyone else.
That’s why she’s often seen in early evenings, together with her husband, call him Baba Rose walking to one bar or another that isn’t too far from their residence for a drink.
On this particular day, there’re four of us including Baba Rose at a bar that’ll remain unnamed. You’re tempted to ask him, “Where’s Mama Rose?” but you avoid that.
He mightpot take it kindly, because, in any case, dragging along wives to where we go for our beer is generally viewed as soapy!
Well,pot long after, Mama Rose arrives at the bar and walks straight to our table. We, almost unanimously, say karibu. Incidentally, the ongoing round had just been ordered by you, so it’s upon you to order one for Mama Rose also a Savanna.
Baba Rose is the one who had ordered the first round when there were only three of us at this table of Washikaji.
It means it’s likely his wife won’t be drinking anything from him by the end of the session, more so because we’ve just been joined by another fellow when it’s time forpdugu Esaya to throw a round.
Yes, a round comprising six bottles, including, of course, Mama Rose’s Savanna.
We had expected Baba Rose to shift himself and his babe to a separate table of theirs, but he doesn’t! Smart guy, eh?