Sobering stories from the bars

Some will accuse me of flogging this horse to death, but the bar stories I keep hearing are just too hilarious not to retell.

Last weekend, a number of us attended a family function somewhere in Nyeri. Towards evening, I found myself seated in the company of an entertaining bunch of people, and, naturally, the group started swapping stories.

One of them told us how, a year ago, he had a disagreement with his wife in the morning before leaving for work.

As the day wore off and his anger began to dissipate, and after some introspection, he admitted to himself that he was the one in the wrong, and wondered how to make it up to his wife that evening.

Before heading home, he decided to pass by the local bar to unwind, if anything, a few beers would make it easier for him to apologise – why is it that men find it so difficult to say those three simple words?

Anyway, as he partook of his fourth beer, a hawker appeared by his side with an assortment of wares, which included bedsheets. In a sudden moment of enlightenment, it occurred to him that buying his wife a pair of bedsheets, (never mind that he would sleep on them too) would appease his angry spouse back home.

“Uko na king-size?” he asked the alert hawker, who quickly assured him that indeed, he did. And not just any king size bedsheets, but those made of pure cotton. He went ahead and dumped the assortment of things he was carrying and unearthed a pair of packed bedsheets.

The hapless man weighed the bundle with both hands and came out satisfied. It was heavy, therefore the manufacturer had been generous with the cotton, or so his inebriated mind told him. His wife was sure to forgive him once he presented her his clever and practical buy. He could hardly wait to get home.

After some haggling with the determined hawker, the price went down from 800 shillings to 400 shillings. At this point, I will have to ask you, dear reader, whether you have ever come across a pair of king size pure cotton bedsheets retailing for a measly 800 shillings…You haven’t? I thought so.

Soon after, feeling mightily pleased with his purchase and proud of his bargaining skills, he sauntered back home, the bedsheets firmly tucked under his armpit. It was headed to midnight, and being a weekday, everyone, including his wife, was asleep.

But he figured that this was too good a surprise to keep until morning, and therefore woke her up and presented his peace offering with flourish.

Even in his state, he could see that his wife was still smarting from the argument they had had that morning, but she brightened up a little bit at the sight of the bedsheets, which he invited her to unwrap.

Off came the polythene wrap and then a piece of carton that was to reveal the bedsheets, only that there were no bedsheets but three more layers of wet carton sheets, the source of the heaviness he had weighed. Need I say that the man immediately sobered up and that his scandalised wife gave him a cold shoulder for the next one month?

Encouraged by this story, another man in the group recounted how he bought himself a dozen underwear only to get home and realise that he was the proud owner of 12 women’s lace bikers, the ones that promise to hold sagging bits in place.

What was even worse is the fact that he could not pretend that he had bought them for his wife since the size was grossly off, and was therefore forced to throw them in the trash, careful not to be seen by his wife, who would have demanded to know what he was doing with women’s knickers.

He swears that’s the last time he’s ever bought anything in a bar. Guys, as a politician would say, cease and desist. Please.

The writer is Chief Production Editor at NMG. Email: cnjunge@ ke.nationmedia.com