For the love of drink...

"This is unbelievable." Moses was saying. "Inexcusable. I've heard of countries where people get executed for much less than that."

"Such as?" Allan asked. The very question I would have asked myself had I been so inclined.

"Easy." Moses replied. "Just take a map of Asia and North Africa, knock off China and India, and Voila! You can take your pick."

Elvis and I didn't say a word. When Moses is in such a mood, it is criminally impractical to try and sway his perspective on whatever issue it is that had brought it about. Allan was the only one foolhardy enough to argue with him, but then again, Allan is our resident philosopher. And that is what philosophers do; Argue.

The argument today had to do with what transpired that afternoon at Moses' workplace.
Dude had been pulling all the stops for the past month to land a new secretary who had just been hired by his organisation, and the girl, while remaining suitably demure as any self-respecting damsel would, had nevertheless given our poor friend enough reason to believe that she was available.

Thus encouraged, Moses had gone on to buy a weekend getaway package for two at the Coast in the hope that it would impress the living daylights out of her, but when he sprung the surprise on her that afternoon after a lunch date, she had apologetically informed him she was sorry, but she had family commitments that weekend.

No problemo, Moses had replied. The package, although non-refundable, was open-ended and could be deferred to a different date. I'm really sorry, the girl had replied, but you don't understand. The family commitment I mentioned I have to attend to is actually my husband's family.

"I was incredibly humiliated." Moses explained to us when we'd met earlier that evening, and then gone on to elaborate. "It was as if someone had hauled me to the very top of the Tower of Humiliation, erected a mast, hauled me to the top of the mast and then mercilessly shoved me down to the forbidding ground far, far below."

When he is emotional, Moses sometimes tends to get wonderfully descriptive.

And now, he was considering suing the girl. He hadn't quite decided what for yet, but he figured he had a decent shot at compensation if he proved the girl had deceived him and caused him both emotional and financial distress.

When he said this, Elvis and I had each taken a single look at his face, ascertained that he indeed was serious, and then proceeded to fixedly concentrate on our drinks in a determined effort not to burst out laughing. Allan, however, held no such reservations. He spluttered on his drink and shot Moses a look that cast the concept of incredulous to a whole new level.

"Assuming she is even guilty in the first place, which she isn't by anyone's stretch of the imagination except, of course, yours," he wondered, "what makes you think there is a clerk in any Kenyan court that would file such an incredibly stupid lawsuit, let alone a judge or magistrate that would hear it?"

A perfectly obvious consideration for any sane person privy to the details of this whole absurd saga. But you see, Moses and the obvious don't exactly live up the same street.
"Just because there isn't any law against it doesn't mean it is right." He insisted. "No woman should treat a man like that and expect to get away scot free. I will make her pay, you just wait and see."

Even philosophers have their limits, and Allan signified he'd reached his by making a grunting noise of resignation that sounded remarkably like a Somali about to spit out a gob of Khat. A waiter had just reached our table, and our bottles were almost empty.

"More rounds on my bill, please." Moses told him. "Get all of us two bottles of what we are having...except this guy." He pointed at Allan, and that explains why Elvis and I hadn't raised our voices against Moses' incredulities that entire evening.

You see, when you go drinking, it is never a good idea to get on the wrong side of the guy buying the drinks.