It’s Decem-bar, don’t rain on your man’s parade

It’s December already! Time for family but also time for debauchery.

December, although celebratory and rewarding, always seems like a time of conflict because although we are fully aware that January will soon bear down on us with its lethargy and its financial headache, we still manage to disregard these little annoying details and embrace December wholeheartedly. 

Anyway, did you know that research indicates that more couples break up in December than in any other month?

OK, I just made that up. But you would have believed it, anyway, right?

We all seem to push the limits in December, don’t we, gents? Maybe it’s because we feel that we deserve it, after slaving throughout the year.

Maybe we are just glad that God’s grace has kept us alive and so he deserves to have a glass of something toasted to him.

BETTER CONVERSATION

Maybe it’s just the mood – everything seems so casual and happy; even the normally surly boss, with his checkered blazers.

Maybe it’s because you got your bonus and you want to let loose because it’s never really that serious – at least not in December.

So you live a little. And you end up in conflict with the women in your life because December is one of those months when she complains that you are always hanging out with your friends. I’m sure there is a research somewhere that can support this, but it’s December, who has time to Google?

This article was actually inspired by a friend of mine who said that perhaps if I explained to women what happens in bars, how we end up coming home late, we will all end up having a merry Christmas.

Which basically starts with explaining that when we say “I’m just finishing up this last drink then I leave any moment now” it shouldn’t be taken literally.

Well, anyway, gents, this is my good deed for the year.

First, ladies, the bar is normally dull before 11pm. The only men who go back home before 11pm are those who either have to go change diapers, are meeting their parents-in-law for lunch the following day, are newly-married, are already in the dog-house because of some sin or the other, are with women who don’t shy away from extreme violence, have a flight to catch at 5am, are on antibiotics or drink Del Monte juice. The rest will stay put.

Things get interesting after midnight because in the hours that follow, only men of great resolve and willpower will muster the strength to walk away.

And no, it’s not peer pressure. Conversations at that hour always seem better, more animated, more intriguing.

We also always seem to make more friends at this hour. You will always end up conversing with the guys on the next table, the ones who an hour ago looked prim and proper.

Now one of them has his hand that smells of cigarettes on your shoulder, shouting in your ear about the day his car got stolen.

Or maybe he meant his cat; it’s hard to hear people properly in that noise. Cat or car, every man deserves a chance to tell his story.

Then there is the point when on your way to the bathroom, you run into an old friend from high school, and you stand there reminiscing on the bad food and insanely early preps.

THE FINAL HOURS

Then he insists he has to buy you a drink and you can’t say no because, come on, what kind of a sad, uncultured person meets someone they haven’t seen in 15years and turns down a toast to that meeting?

Back at your table you will also find another drink you didn’t order placed before you. The music always sounds better after midnight. Also, after midnight is when you can even dare attempt to dance, because nobody is sober enough to care how bad you are at it.

Nobody will even remember it. Then the finally hours, you switch to water, to stabilise, before you set out.

An important thing: Somehow this is the only time we banish our phones and so because hardly do you sit still after midnight, you will hardly ever hear any message come in, or even hear it ring no matter how loud your ringtone is.

And so the message from your woman, - “Kwani you are paying that bill for two hours?” – that she sent two hours ago will remain unseen and unreplied much to her chagrin. When you finally stumble out of that place, after you have sneaked out because you never really say goodbye, you will see the message.

Because we are smart, we will pass by somewhere and buy you chicken. Or whatever it is, that might soften your heart in the morning. Because mornings, are the most difficult.

Happy December fellows, don’t drink and drive.