Bottoms Up with Bacchus
JUST what is this IFMIS animal that has caused so much pandemonium in our drinking halls?
Of late Bacchus has been hearing this acronym a lot even from people who have never seen a blackboard in their lives.
It’s now the common alibi that some of my boozing mates use to pass the round.
Every time it’s their turn to buy booze they start lamenting endlessly about how the system has delayed their salaries or how their payments have been stuck at the treasury because there are problems with the financial programme.
It’s beginning to irritate and affect my appetite for the merry waters.
Honestly, how does beer go down well when you are the only one picking the bill while the others are busy gulping the malt?
The other day I was at my usual well downing liquor when one of my mates whose stinginess is legendary started moaning about this IFMIS thing.
“Guys things are not well because IFMIS has delayed paying me again,” said my mate as soon as he realised that his turn to take the round was fast approaching.
I looked at him with disdain. I wanted to slap him in the face and tell him that he was a swindler.
This is the man who has never taken responsibility for his drinking expenses but he had the guts to give me the junk about IFMIS.
For as long as I have known this chap, he has made it a point to pass on the bill.
If IFMIS had not been mentioned he would have gone for the usual bit about his mother in Mohale’s Hoek not feeling well.
Bacchus has never been one to count his trips to the bar counter but surely there must be a limit to how much a man can drink from other people’s pockets.
Have you noticed that people who don’t spend much on beer actually drink more?
They want it in gallons yet they use all silly tactics to spend as little as possible.
When you are on your first glass they are already flicking their fingers for the third one.
Personally I have just had enough with such misers.
The most irritating part of it all is that these penny-pinching guys normally want to move around with entourages.
If they are not with friends they are with girlfriends or some useless hangers-on.
And the girlfriends like to go for the costly blowjob and sex-on-the-beach cocktails as if their boyfriends will be paying.
Just look at how they guzzle them fast too like water on a searing afternoon in the desert.
You know the type that Bacchus is talking about.
The type that winks at you every time their poor boys visit the loo.
I mean the type that smiles wider every time you ask them if they want more.
It’s not only my mate who has been singing the IFMIS song.
There are many among us imbibers who have found it a convenient excuse to dodge liquor bills.
Even people who don’t do anything for a living are using it.
“Eish, ntate IFMIS e re baketse mathata,” you hear them say with no iota of shame.
But Bacchus will soon sort them out.
My resolution is that from this week onward I will drink alone.
If you want to do the usual beer chat you should shout from your table.
If you want to join my table we must first declare our budgets and we all pay for our beers in advance.
That way I won’t have to pity anyone midway through the binge when your glass is empty.
If you have run out of cash you hit the road or you apply for a loan.
And I can assure you that my money doesn’t come cheap.
It’s a good policy that can save me from this noise about IFMIS that has caused me so much discomfort over the past two months.
This policy will remain in place until people realise that Bacchus’ money does not grow on trees.
Until we meet again next week, learn to foot your own bills