My buddy Enoch and his wife Amina are at it again. I’m always game when Enoch comes calling, but when he asks to crash on my sofa for a few days, alarm bells toll in my head. Last time he asked to stay, they had been fighting about his wandering eyes.
“What’s the problem this time?” I ask. “You still can’t keep your eyes in their sockets?”
“What’s that about?” he says, setting his bag on the quite expensive coffee glass table. “I mean, are we supposed to get married and then suddenly go blind?”
I take the bag and place it on the floor. “You decided to take the bait — I mean make the vows, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” He flops on the sofa and props his legs on the table. “I vowed for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I never said I’d gouge my eyes out and never see any other female human.”
I sweep his feet off the table. “This glass, not tiles, is imported from Italy. Twenty thousand a square foot.”
“Gee. Sorry I mistreated your table. I have more pressing matters in my head.”
“You screwed another maid, didn’t you?”
He looks offended. “Not since the last one. I’d have to turn homo to touch the current one.”
“She employed a houseboy?” I laugh so hard I nearly pee in my pants. “Way to go, Taraji.”
“Yeah, you, too, take her side. Like you always do.”
“Me, too? You mean the rest of society also frowns on you sleeping with the house help?”
Enoch throws his arms in air. “It’s not even that. Frankly. I just ran away.”
“For no reason?”
“‘No one does anything without a reason.’ I remember someone saying that to me once. Oh, wait. It was you. Try a thousand and one reasons.”
“Oh, boy.” I head for the kitchen. “This may take a while. You want a beer?”
“No. Nothing but a full crate would do for me.”
I hand him a beer and once again swipe his feet from the table.
“See?” he says. “This is what I’m talking about. Being married is like living in the freaking Penal Code. It’s nothing but a bunch of rules. Don’t do this, don’t do that. Don’t drink, don’t play, don’t be late. Don’t look at other females, unless they’re immediate family members.”
I sip my brew. “You mean even cousins are suspect?”
Enoch’s eyes drop. “She knows.”
“What?” I almost choke. “You told your wife you lost your virginity to your cousin?”
“We met at a wedding. I thought she was a random guest, probably on the other family.”
“Still doesn’t make it right. Worse yet, why would you tell Taraji about it?”
“I didn’t. We had a family thing the other day and my stupid brother thought it was a ‘funny’ anecdote. But like I said, that had nothing to do with anything. I’m bored, is all.”
“Bored?”
“It’s the routine dude. It’s like being back in high school all over again. Or working in a freaking shipping factory. Everything has to go inside a particular box. And you can’t mess nothing up, otherwise you have to contend with the wrath of God.”
“Is that why weddings happen in church?” I laugh.
“It’s not funny, dude. I’m losing my mind here. What can I do?”
“Leave.”
He sits up, hope lighting up his face. “Are you serious? You think I should file for divorce?”
“No. I mean leave my house before Taraji comes here and kills us both.”
