BAR TALK: Of dancing dads and free fruit, veggies

When God did not grant my prayer for a jumpsuit I decided to steal one then pray for forgiveness

When God did not grant my prayer for a jumpsuit I decided to steal one then pray for forgiveness

Bra Gee
We all know that the ultimate achievement of a woman is to get married, right? Anything else like a career and or amassing a fortune is just by the wayside. They are only enough when the achiever is a mere male.

Phew!!!. It is getting hotter by day.

Who Am I?

No prize for guessing who I am because I have taken the joke that is Zimbabwe’s modelling industry to a new nadir.

My fellow models have made names of themselves out of their nude images. I especially admire the last dethroned queen who has used he notoriety to become a motivational speaker.

I can just imagine the tears in the audience as she tells her sob story of how she is harshly judged just because she is a woman, yet she unblushingly put pen to paper as she swore that her regions where the sun don’t shine had never had encounters of the close kind with a camera lens.

At least I have never pretended to be a saint. If you are the kind of person who insists on placing everyone in some neat box and sealing it with a label, then I guess you would call me a good time girl. But in reality I would remind you that just as all men are the sons of one parent, all women are sisters under the skin.

But to get to an explanation for my behaviour; let me tell you, things are tough. The Chidyausiku ruling has not done my day job — or is that night job industry — any favours. Some of our clients are out of work. Those still hanging onto their jobs by the skin of their teeth are quaking in their shoes as salaries are cut and the threat of further retrenchments and sackings continue to hang over their hapless heads.

So what is a girl to do? You still need to look good and act like you are on top of the game. The Nigerians have a saying that when hunters learnt to shoot without missing the birds learnt to fly without perching for a rest. or something to that effect. So it is a case of the tough getting going because the going is tough. So if you cannot buy it, just steal it.

I mean, it is not like this whole multi-million dollar conglomerate would miss one measly jumpsuit only worth $40, would they? While the same suit on my curves under my grossly over-painted face may make the difference between getting my next meal and starving. Who knows, it may even heighten my chances of landing a permanent kitchen post. Stranger things have happened, you know.

Jive dude dad

We all know that the ultimate achievement of a woman is to get married, right? Anything else like a career and or amassing a fortune is just by the wayside. They are only enough when the achiever is a mere male.

For a woman the standards are much higher and in addition to the high flying career and loads of money she must find a man willing to look at her without her make-up on.

So we understand why it would make any parents proud that their daughter has finally found a man. Especially when the daughter in question has made her career out of selling sex toys and reached the very ripe age of 30 without securing that all important asset, a husband.

It then makes sense to pull out all the stops and make sure that the dear daughter gets a wedding to die for on an island far from the whining Zimbabweans.

After all the doting dad once said that the fact that millions are stuck in poverty is no reason to lower the lifestyle standards of those favoured by fortune. Which we take to mean that the fact that children born out of wedlock must sue for maintenance to get basics like school fees, accommodation and food does not mean that those conceived on the right side of the marital blanket should not get the moon and the stars if they demand them.

Of course after doing all that as a father, the least you can do is enjoy the day to the max. So you put on your glad rags in the form of a pink suit and dance to beat the biblical King David.

From that video on Facebook we wonder if there were any professional entertainers at the event or if the father decided to add that role to that of giving away the bride.

New jobs on the market

The guys in blue are out in full force and to keep our city free of those pesky vendors blocking our pavements and spoiling our views of the shop windows. Call them the “Blue Bees” of Harare, and that will not be a misnomer since they are living up that moniker owing to their sustained clean-up campaign.

So enterprising have the Blue Bees as well as the vendors to an extent that their cat and mouse games reminds many of how Osama Bin Laden would evade the US secret agents and both parties getting wind of where the other would have been hiding their arms, agents, etc.

The vendors have some bush telegraph system whereby they learn that the Blue Bees are on the prowl and they quickly stash their wares until the danger passes.

But sometimes the lines are down and the message does not get through and the vendors can only run away with a few items as the Blue Bees give serious chase.

You have to see the scene live to believe the agility and speed on both sides. We have more sprinters than our statistics would show, we tell you.

Bra Gee would like to make a bet that already there are some enterprising souls who have started creating a new industry of picking up the discarded fruits, vegetables, toys and trinkets left lying on the pavements as the vendors flee from the Blue Bees.

All you need is the ability to brazenly bend and pick up the goods as though they belong to you and disappearing with them before anyone cottons onto your shenanigans.

And even if you are challenged you can always claim that the woman in the yellow wrapper who could outrun Maria “Maputo Express” Mutola in her heydays is your second cousin thrice removed and you are salvaging her goods because she is a widow who cannot afford to start afresh is she loses her investments.

Gossip corner

It is really not a new story, just a different cast with a couple of twists to make it sufficiently interesting for the regulars to talk about, once we are done with the serious business of asking what happened to the chicken rearing programme that Mai Mujuru championed in the name of empowering the same women that she now says she will take to heaven if her dreams ever come true?

But our story is about the latest Marilyn Monroe fan. Yes, we understand that one woman is establishing the next phase in her showbiz career the good old-fashioned way. Yes, on her back or any other conducive position.

Our nosey parker friends who can never see someone else’s business without poking their noses into it have told us that our Miss Monroe was using the verges of Lake Chivero to grease her way to success.

Predictably the pair was caught and had to pay over some good dosh to convince the voyeur not to post pictures on social media or sell them to the tabloids. Our advise to the aspiring screen goddess is to keep her career moves strictly behind bedroom walls or even locked office doors if the situation should get desperate.

Last Call: The psychology of theft

In honour of the model we bring you a special parting shot:

When I was young I used to pray for a jumpsuit, then I realised that God doesn’t work that way….

So I stole a jumpsuit and prayed for forgiveness.

Till next week, bottoms up!

Facebook: Bra Gee, Email: brageesbar@gmail.com, Twitter: @brageesbar