This fat and juicy Friesian cow called Dîner en Blanc has got to be milked one final time. Juice has got to be squeezed out of it some more–for maximum effect.

Well, Dean Karemera asked me to do so. In fact, ever since DEB a weekend ago, Dean has been putting me under pressure to do a full disclosure.

Just who is this Dean? Well, he is a colleague –and one I wouldn’t want to provoke into boxing me because I fear his jab, so the wise thing to do is bid his call.

I fear being boxed by Dean because I have a secret suspicion that his punch reverberates just like his voice whenever it’s called out in the newsroom.

Every time that a male colleague calls out Dean’s name, it booms. Every time that a female colleague calls out the name, it is always sharp and piercing, just like Celine Dion music. However, sometimes ladies call out Dean’s name and it booms and reverberates just as well.

A good example of when this dude’s name pierces your ears is when Doreen Umutesi calls it from across his table.

An example of when his voice booms and reverberates yet it’s being called by a lady is when Nash Bish calls Dean from her adjacent desk.

When it’s Dean himself saying his name, you will be excused to think it’s some kind of thunder or earthquake unfolding.

In fact, random people have accosted me on the streets and demanded to know how fat and how mean and how tall and intimidating Dean is, all on account of the way his name sounds.

Moral of the story

Knowing how thoroughly I had squeezed stories out of the Dîner, I had to cleverly lure you into the subject one more time, then quickly and shamelessly switch the topic to Dean.

Which should in turn hand me the perfect excuse to not honor the usual word count for this column.