Thursday, February 12, 2015

the dog races

“Is that all you’re wearing?”
 “Yes.”
“Well, you could at least iron it.” Raphael says to me, not looking. He is flipping through the old Msafiri Magazine lying beside my desk. He is fully dressed. A checked brown and beige long sleeved cotton shirt, and brown khaki’s. He was going to put on a bow tie, but I’ve discouraged him.
“You already look like a geek, don’t make it worse.”

I take off the blue caftan and iron the shoulders to get the peg marks out.
“Should we bring some lunch?”
Maybe a beer, there is some Anglia in the fridge, pack two for me. Bring whatever you like for yourself.
Do you think Lyn and Naini would mind?
“Mind what?”
“If we brought extra drinks for them?”

I laugh. Lyn does not drink any alcohol, even overripe pineapples upset her.
“I’m sure we’ll find something there.”
“I don’t want to spend anything in that place. A flimsy sandwich is priced like a whole grilled Shark!”
“That’s because you go into the bar, the tents have good Chinese fried rice”

He makes a face and heads to the fridge. I later find out he packed my housemate’s spaghetti and brawn.

 “That looks better,” he smiles and we get into a discussion of flower clips all the way to the bus stop.

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