Breaking the gentleman’s code

Tony Ngare

When it comes to the ladies, there are a number of issues that any self-respecting man must think twice before getting embroiled in. One is their weight and the other their dress code. Marketing gurus have told you that image is everything, and when you say something unsavoury about a sister’s image, venom is bound to spread fast and furious.

Having avoided the raging dress code debate for weeks, I found myself suddenly thrown into the deep waters when Frao (he can be a bit thick at times) decided to blow my cover as an insurance salesman. After taking a beer too many, Frao decided it was a good time to gauge the feelings of the sisters about a certain pastor’s new guidelines on what ought to be worn to church.

And what better way than to implicate the hapless Man About Town, who was passing himself off as a well-to-do insurance broker?

Dress code

"Tony, tell me," he said tapping the tabletop in the manner of one discussing the global financial imbroglio. "How come you haven’t commented on the dress code saga in your column?"

After delicate evaluation of the situation, I made a mad rush for the washrooms but apparently that was a terrible mistake. It effectively left Frao with ample opportunity to spill the beans. So when I returned to the table, instead of enjoying my cold beer, I had six pairs of eyes to contend with.

"So you are the guy who loves belittling women?" sneered Catherine, fixing me with a gimlet eye. Up until then Catherine had looked like a fine young woman who must have taken a day off from the nunnery. Taking the cue, the other girls went into an uproar, with each giving me a piece of her mind. It was even demanded that I recant anything remotely adverse I may have written in my compositions back in primary school. All this time, the old fool Frao was having a fine time.

Philosophical Outlook

Usually my take on whether ladies should or should not wear trousers has been guided by a philosophical outlook. What is the problem with it? It, however, becomes an issue when ladies in a pub ‘confuse’ the symbols on the toilet door. Those symbols, I’m told by the brothers who have travelled widely, are universal. So they mean the same thing from Dakota to Dakar and Dubai. So why would one in trousers opt to get into the small room meant for men?