I remember a time when people used to like me. Those were the days

Conventional wisdom dictates that the older we grow, the wiser we become. I don’t know any more. I hope you don’t dispute the fact that being liked by people is significantly better than being despised.

At no other prior stage in my life have I been more disliked than I am now. And yet, when I was 17, I possessed the wisdom to always behave in a manner that ensured my popularity with friends, family, acquaintances and strangers. It wasn’t uncommon to hear mothers in my neighbourhood say, “If all the boys on this street were more like that Ngcobo boy”. I’d be pleased.

I like to believe that I’ve a scientific, logical, systematic brain (stop giggling and acting immature). Having a systematic brain means I have an acute appreciation for the inputs necessary to achieve desired and predictable outcomes — or something along those lines. Today, I get to dazzle you with my theory on how to get people to like you. Let’s call it, “How to Keep Friends and Remain Popular”. There are two rules to follow to be popular:

Stuff your core beliefs, principles and worldview. Give people what they want.

By employing these two simple rules, you’ll be on your way to becoming popular. The astute reader will recognise these rules as the pillars of the “JZ Model.”.. if the indepth analysis emanating from our nation’s newsrooms is to be believed. A good example of how I remained popular (back in the day) is that I used to have conversations that went something like:

Friend: Waiter! Two single Scotches for my buddy and me.

Me: Actually, I don’t like Scotch. I prefer beer. Friend: What you talk in bout willis? Of course we like Scotch. Me: Apologies, I don’t know what came over me. Waiter, make that a double Scotch.

Legendary jazz guitarist and singer George Benson learned this valuable lesson at the feet of another jazz legend, Miles Davis. In one interview Benson shares how Miles once said to him, “George, I’ll tell you what I told Jimi Hendrix” and how he got all excited because he figured Miles was going to let him in on a deep secret to success in the industry. “Play loud. They like that. Give ’em what they want”.

As ridiculous as it sounds, the advice worked. George Benson became one of the most popular jazz artists of his time because he wasn’t afraid to venture outside the traditional jazz boundaries. He gave us what we wanted.

Giving people what they want is an integral part of being well-liked and popular. It’s the cornerstone of friendship. I’m being dead serious. I’m about to give you a gem of my own, in the mould of Miles, the definition of friendship according to Ndumiso Ngcobo. Friendship is an arrangement between two people where they trade their individuality for acceptance. True, lasting friendship is achieved when both individuals reach a compromise by departing from their true selves and meeting each other in a no-man’s land halfway house. Perfect symbiosis achieved.

If you think I’m being cynical it’s because you’re one of these naïve, self-delusional, can’t-handle-the-truth saps I’m trying to help. You want me to tell you what you want to hear. No siree. No way, José. That was the old Ndumiso. Meet new Ndumiso, the arsehole. That’s the most popular description for people who have neither the time nor inclination to give people what they want.

I don’t possess the predisposition to dispense advice. Being prescriptive is not my modus operandi. It’s often a source of disappointment for young men who send me emails asking for advice on how to get published. My MO is to share my personal experience, my beliefs, my opinions, nothing more. I come across as an unhelpful, selfcentred bastard, which — if we’re going to be totally honest — is accurate. I can’t give you a “How To” low-down on becoming a bona fide prick. Few people can reach these lofty heights. The two quickest ways of transforming yourself into a firstclass prick are:

Attain a state of clarity about your own paradigmatic standpoint on life. Articulate your views.

For best results, practise rule #2 in the face of dissent, don’t waver when people get offended and give you the hurt puppy look. If you do this you’ll be on your way to becoming a social pariah like me. My “Former Friends” folder is swelling fast. At this rate, when I die they’ll find my corpse in a Hillbrow flat 10 days after my expiry date when the stink becomes unbearable.

I predict that I’ll die alone like a dried-up locust clinging onto a blade of grass in the Karoo veld. Only two people will show up for my funeral — the poor municipal grave diggers who have to cover me up for my eternal dirt nap.

Don’t be mistaken; I still have people I consider my friends, though this might not a mutual feeling. I hope that when (if) they read this, they’ll remember the story of the frog, the scorpion and why the scorpion stung the frog — it’s the nature of the beast. And no, I’m not asking to be understood.

I’ll forgive you, my dear reader, if you assume that a single event triggered this melancholic rant. Not really. It’s been gathering for a while but I just didn’t have the inclination to crystallise my thoughts until now. It just came together at this moment. The alignment of the stars? The perfect blood alcohol level? Who knows?

Don’t mention it. I’m just doing my job.

I come across as an unhelpful, self-centred bastard, which — if we’re going to be totally honest — is accurate