THEDRYCLEANER: Man in trouble with himself
By THEDRYCLEANER - Tuesday, January 29, 2008 - 16:05:52
Trouble was what a friend of thedrycleaner had by New Year’s Eve but the man refused to exit one year and enter another without his excess luggage.
You see, to be very fair with him, it would be not far off the truth that him and trouble are inseparable twins, such that he has lost quite a large number of friends because none of them is keen to share their time with his troubles.
Trouble is, the man was born in a troubled time, in a troubled relationship, lived in troubled township, lead a troubled life as a young man, married trouble, and he is miserably living it to the fullest now that he is grown-up and doing off nicely in life.
Now, with someone with such a troubled profile, it is no surprise that some people have taken advantage of it and are causing trouble on his behalf. And one such person comes in the mould of his mischief-in-waiting, his spare wheel.
It’s not as if the spare wheel is the first in his life; it’s only that she is the most tenacious, having withstood his troubles and wearily adopted them as her own.
So, recently, the friend of thedrycleaner was happily driving when the mischief-in-waiting decided to cause trouble on his behalf. Now, to suggest he drives a car is to insult the term ‘car’. It’s essentially tins-on-wheels, and word is out in town that tinsmiths in town are baying for his blood, for denying them a decent living.
But, if that were the end of his troubles, it would be small matter indeed for a man used to getting it thick and fast. The thing is, lawyers for the original manufacturers of the car (the car has been re-manufactured hundreds of times by panel beaters and under-the-tree garages) are in the country to sue him for disfigurement of their product, bringing an honourable product into disrepute, and a host of other misdemeanours.
Now as he was driving in his tins-on-wheels, he received a call — or rather, as has become fashionable, a flash — on his cell (which, sad to say, has seen better days) from his wife. Before, he could call her, his spare wheel also flashed.
Now, having a call from your spare wheel is big trouble in itself. (It could mean she wants you to pay some bill or make a demand so disproportionate with your lifetime income.) But getting a call from your spare wheel just seconds after your wife has also just beeped you is a tragedy in making.
But men being men, the spare wheel comes first and the wife gets to eat the crumbs. So the friend of thedrycleaner calls the spare wheel first, who tells him she has just hit a decrepit sedan and its woman driver is raging insane. The catch is, the spare wheel’s pick-up had no insurance. The man promises to be with her in as little time as possible to sort out her mess.
He then calls his wife, who weeps into his ear about some bone and thin muscle of a young woman, whose pick-up has run into her sedan. And when he enquires about the directions to the accident spot, the man doesn’t smell a whiff of trouble; he knows he is walking, headfirst, into the heart of trouble.
Now the man, his heart assailed with trepidation, drives over to the trouble spot. And just as he alights from his tins-on-rims, the spare wheel literary flies into his arms, unaware that the woman driver in the old sedan (See? He even lets his wife drive in a ramshackle collection of metals on wheels) was her stolen man’s wife.
To say there was chaos would be to insult the fracas that followed that simple act of abandoned passion.
It was confusion redefined.
Of course, it was him who later picked up the bills of the accident; the moral bill, the insurance bill and a reputation so much in tatters it would be a miracle if he managed to piece it back in two lifetimes!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Thedrycleaner ‘unmasked’
Dear thedrycleaner,
Eureka! I think I now know who the ‘real’ drycleaner is. To begin with, thedrycleaner (DC) is a lawyer who works in the bank during the day and also does part time work as a journalist for both print and electronic media at night.
The DC is also a member of the clergy who sings gospel songs and owns bars, shops, rest houses and has taxi services. The DC is a strange breed when visiting public places. DC uses both the ladies and gents to answer the call of nature.
Sometime last year, thedrycleaner worked as a police officer before being appointed cabinet minister. Now the DC resides in Mzuzu but has guesthouses in Blantyre, Lilongwe and Zomba. In Zomba, thedrycleaner sometimes lectures. Thedrycleaner visits the market and superettes everyday and rides minibuses besides taxis every hour.
Thedrycleaner changes jobs at will and this year the DC has job offers in NGOs and tea estates.
Another opportunity is looming in the health sector! Again the DC has been invited to work at the National Assembly this year. The DC does not apply for jobs; employers headhunt for the DC.
The DC is not very educated though and is not very rich. The DC rarely smiles and rarely gets angry. The DC is not very popular and usually vanishes when in close contact with inquisitive people.
In short ladies and gentlemen, thedrycleaner is that reasonable and rational person who is there when you least expect the DC. If you have dirty linen, then the DC pounces on you. Knowing the DC is really not important. What is important is avoiding dirty linen. If all of us ceased having dirty linen or indeed hiding dirty line, then the DC would cease to exist!
MJ
Blantyre
* * * * * * * * * * *
Amen to that and more!
<< Back |
