Awê Ma Se Kinnes!
Yesterday, while she was enthusiastically chatting with a group of us, I told my friend Fazlin that she had a bogie in her nose. One of those bogie’s that love styling right on the edge of the cliff. Fazlin was eternally grateful. She quickly got rid of the culprit and continued with the conversation. Can everybody please be like me? That was the right thing to do. That’s what a good friend should do.
I cannot tell you how many times I’ve animatedly been telling a story to a group of friends without anyone timeously pointing out that we have an elephant in the nasal room. Nobody tells you until much later. When it really is too late. When the story is done. It is only then that someone quietly leans over and softly says: “My bru, your nose.” It’s always a horrible moment for me. Especially when I’ve desperately been trying to be cool. And suddenly so many things start making sense. Suddenly I start thinking that’s why they didn’t laugh their moer at my story because they were feeling bad for me and mister Bo Jangles. Dammit all!
I can understand how the delay happens. The delay with the big disclosure. There’s a very small window period once you see the landmine for the very first time. As tricky as it is, you actually need to not even think about it for a second and immediately go: “Fazlin, your nose baby.” Ga-gwa! It’s over and done with. Fazlin immediately cleans up her act – everyone else is relieved – and life as we know it carries on.
If you wait for longer than 3 minutes to tell Fazlin – then it’s too late. You can’t interrupt her story now. You’ve waited too long. You’re going to have to wait until she’s done. And now nobody is really listening to her story. Nobody is hanging on to her every word because the only thing hanging is you-know-what. The entire little group is now panicking: OMG who is going to tell her – Oh shit nobody is going to tell her – Oh no how long is this story – Flip man, if only she kept her mask on!
There are some other things a good friend should also tell you. Even if it’s treading on tricky terrain. Things like, “Fazlin the boyfriend you have now is a pig – tell him to mince.” That means show him the door. Now this can obviously go one of two ways. Fazlin can tell you to mind your own business. She can ruk herself up and tell you that you’re just jealous because she’s getting hot action every night while you’re just sitting at home with Romany Creams watching a b-grade movie. You must make an allowance for the latter turn of events. Fazlin could of course also completely surprise you and say that she’s had a kak feeling about dinges for a while now and that she’s going to take your advice and move on. Whatever the outcome, you must do the right thing man. Otherwise there’s no point in being called bestie.
Bestie should also have the space to tell Fazlin that she has a really strange haircut. Particularly if Fazlin’s other twee-gevriet acquaintances are skinnering about the new haircut behind Fazlin’s back. And yes, I completely understand that we all have the right to live our lives to the fullest regardless as to what any other idiot thinks about what we do with our hair. I mean, I’m the last one to comment on interesting haircuts. But I’m referring to haircuts that have gone completely wrong. You know those haircuts that look like it’s been done by someone who has the shakes after trying tik for the sixtieth time – that day. Tell Fazlin!
And then, a good friend does not go quiet when he suddenly finds himself in the middle of a skinne session about Fazlin. Don’t even wait to hear how the story ends. Soema jump in immediately with, “Ok awks, she’s a close friend so let’s change the topic please – or I may have to leave. Sorry.” The skinnebek will feel terrible. Which is absolutely perfect. You don’t get a gold star for talking kak about other people.
Shoo. I’ve just read all of this again and I realized that I’m far from a fabulous friend. Look at God ne. Using me to see the error of my own ways. “I’m just Vessel” – for me today!