Sitting on a couple of crates in the tavern’s courtyard, Thato and Papi play drafts using
Heineken and Castle bottle tops.
THATO: Whatever happened to Ouma?
PAPI: Ouma?! (He frowns with confusion.)
THATO: Yes, Ouma. She was once this dusty town’s beauty queen two years in a row.
PAPI: Ahhh … That curvy yellowbone would have been a three-time beauty queen if the councillor’s jealous wife hadn’t spiked her drink just before the swimsuit contest. Well, last I heard Ouma broke my heart, got married to some moemish from the North West, had two kids, and now lives in Rusty Dusty. (Hand held to his heart, feigning a heartbreak)
THATO: Askies. I know you really liked her.
PAPI: Yeah, look where that got me. (He eyes the bottle, looking pitiful.) I should have impregnated her when I got the chance, paid damages and put a ring on it.
THATO: (laughing) Damages? With what money? Besides, you know that’s not your style.
PAPI: True. The word “damages” is in itself problematic on so many levels. I tell you what I would have really liked though: to see her in that swimsuit one last time before she broke my heart.
THATO: (laughing) You are something else, you know that? I’ve missed you, my broer. (He gives Papi a nudge on the shoulder.)
BRA BIZO: Thato? (He gives him a concerned look.) Mfana, o right? Are you okay?
THATO: Sho case Bra Biza! (He chuckles.) Just catching up with my broer van toeka af, Papi.
BRA BIZO: (looking around, confused) Papi?!
THATO: Yeah! You must remember Papi? We grew up together, and he practically looks like this place. (He chuckles.)
BRA BIZO: Okay…
Bra Bizo walks off shaking his head.
Tell us: How do you feel when your friends playfully insult you? Do you enjoy it or do you feel undermined?