LAZZO looked back with nostalgia surrounding his life as he sat perched on a stool at one end of the watering holeHe had been a patron here since the stormy 1980s when few imagined the current remote control switch technology so prevalent would give birth to the cellular phone!
Indeed, the world had changed so much for the better because before this, Lazzo had to make do with appointments made through a landline he had heard one engineer refer to as a ‘terrestrial line’.
In fact, the engineer turned out to be a fellow imbiber at the watering hole which attracted an assorted clientele.
But Lazzo noted that it was impossible to have a complete white-collar patronage anywhere as life was not simply one-plus-one!
There had to be the blue-collar folks and the underclass at the basement of the hierarchy, which was noticeable by the type of dialogue between imbibers and sometimes the manner of dress.
Incidentally, he had learnt much mixing with the moderately-learned imbibers and those far beyond flaunting titles such as ‘doctor’ or someone fellow imbibers described in low tones as having acquired a ‘Masters” in this or that discipline!
In fact, there was one who only specialised in the behaviour of bees and Lazzo thought that this patron would be very useful in some remote place in one corner of the country!
Lazzo’s mentor had once said that if one engaged in the mental hairsplitting exercises whilst at the watering hole, they would take long to go past the inebriation stage, hence the need to stay focused on sipping their favourite drink intently.
He had also noted that the best way to repel someone who belonged to another school of thought was to discuss something advanced in a different direction.
This would make them keep quiet and retreat to their enclave and Lazzo thought he had seen a recent example at the watering hole.
However, this watering hole was predominantly underclass and he had to recline to its dictates without fail.
He had to speak in a local language and do so loudly for someone to hear because here, there was no regard for conversations or listening to the news on television overhead.
The vision box had been reduced to merely being an instrument that chiefly showed pictures, and Lazzo noticed over time that many people had began to deduce stories behind the pictures and sometimes made wrong conclusions.
This took Lazzo backwards to the cinematography-era when a cluster of youngsters in the hood would be part of a crowd staring at a market wall and watching the ‘cowboys of the West’ fight one another.
There was always someone in the crowd interpreting the proceedings as if he was the director of the film. “Now you will see how he is going to punch his rival and after that the man dressed in white will jump on a horse and gallop away!” the interpreter would say with a tone like someone who had triumphed at some feat.
In recent times, he had put up with this scenario often and even when he thought he had had enough of the noisy interference from the loud music blaring from the speakers near the rooftop he had no option but to stay.
It had been a long time since had been to the low-density area where he had a more sane atmosphere. But now he had been socially brought to his knees because of what happened long before this.
The etiquette he had acquired as a member of the middleclass had been eroded by constant shoulder-rubbing with what he considered ‘crude behaviour’.
When he is talking to someone close to him, someone would dart between them and introduce a different subject to one of them!
Lazzo thought this bordered on impoliteness and rude indifference which in these parts were acceptable forms of behaviour.
The downward trend was triggered by one incident in his working life when he took a company vehicle to some dingy section of the hood.
As soon as he slammed the door shut and prepared to effect the locking mechanism on the doors of the car with his remote control switch, a man accompanied by three others from behind a cluster of dilapidated houses emerged …
He demanded the car keys or his life. Lazzo thought he was dreaming as he felt a streak of adrenaline running down his spine. It reminded him of a thriller film he had once watched except that this was real life!
He also sensed that the sniper was up to no good and, inevitably, he was compelled to surrender the keys of the company car!
Lazzo counted himself lucky for escaping what could have been a spell in a prison yard because when he told the story at the office some listeners could not help thinking about accomplices …
But the man out of the blue merely wanted to impress his girlfriend in the dungeons of the hood. For sometime, some hoodlums have been watching Lazzo on his occasional outings to the woman’s house. Their timing was right as they got him napping, this time round he was certainly a man caught with his pants down.
In disbelief, the man watched helplessly as his vehicle was driven away weaving its way through the dirt road at breakneck speed.
His first impression of the driver was that he was an expert perhaps one would had some racing track experience. The episode finally marked his exit from the organisation that had seen him paint the town red over time.
He had now joined a myriad of the jobless and redundant who seemed to vest their hope in providence.
One thing stuck on his mind though.
His inclination to romantic escapades had led him down this alley. At his workplace, Lazzo had risen to some position of authority but this was now too much water under the bridge! He took another sip as a whiff of smoke disturbed his thought pattern but still, he had no option …