Lifting standards for the girl of our life

I do not know why people – young people in particular – find it hard to be real. That is, to be themselves. The desire to impress seems to override common sense.

You’ve probably heard the story of the young man who was walking down the street with his girlfriend. Suddenly, the young man saw a Mercedes-Benz approach them and he took cover in the nearby bush. The young lady, not sure what to make of it all, stood in shock.

All of a sudden, the young man reemerged dusting his trousers and peeping to see if the Mercedes had gone by. The young lady, now breathless, asks:

“What happened. Why did you run away?”

“My father!” the guy replied. “He was in that Mercedes Benz and I didn’t want him to see us together. He would kill me!” And so the poor girl went way thinking her boyfriend’s father drives a Benz.

In our days at university, we saw guys do such crazy things on a daily basis. Did I tell you about that young man in our hall of residence who used to borrow everything from cups to flasks to bedcovers to stereos whenever his girlfriend came to visit? You wonder why anyone would go to such length to win a girl’s love but guys apparently do it all the time.

Well, even girls, I’m told borrow their friends’ shoes and clothes all the time. And it turned out one day as two friends were at a wedding reception, the lady messed up her friend’s blouse with coke, which sent the other yelling, “Gwe! Kale see what you’ve done to my nankani! You’ve messed up my blouse naawe!” Upon which the friend was so incensed by the public embarrassment that she stormed out of the party and went home to nurse some fits of rage and prepare for a fight later that night.

Well, that’s almost what happened to the other guy in the hall of residence who had turned himself into a serial borrower of stuff.

As soon as he had finished entertaining the lady, he escorted her along what we used to call the “red carpet.” That was the walkway along which guys would die to be seen escorting their girls. It was then that they would be graduated from being “Veges” or “Vegetarians” – which was a ridiculous way to refer to us who were hard-core non-meat eaters. Non-womanisers, that is.

But no sooner had the guy seen the lady off to her room than all his neighbours showed up to enjoy some of the leftovers and reclaim their stuff in time to “raise standards” for the evening meal. By “raising standards” we meant giving the moldy beans a makeover in form of frying them to make the weevils more palatable.

Within no time, the boys had stripped the room to its bare self as before. But unfortunately, the young lady showed up again to pick up her key, which she had forgotten on the guy’s bed.

She could not recognise the room where she had just been entertained because, stripped of its former luxurious décor, it looked like a desert island. But guys always have a good excuse even when they are caught pants down. He could definitely see the lady realised something funny was going on.

“These needy fellows!” the guy begun, sensing the lady’s suspicions. “They like borrowing stuff like hell. Now they have taken all my things and I have nothing left to use!”

I don’t think the girl was convinced by the silly excuse and don’t ask me whether she gave him the boot that day. But that’s not all.