Upon arriving at our club, my friend Dula and I are faced with a predicament. The recent rain has left the street muddy, and our shoes are caked with dirt. We cannot possibly enter the club in such a state. Fortunately, our doormat is there, ready and willing to assist us. He lies down, his white T-shirt (which won’t remain white for long) positioned in front of the entrance. Dula and I immediately start rubbing the dirty soles of our shoes on his shirt, eager to remove the mud and dirt. His tongue works diligently to clean our shoes, as we insult him and trample every part of his body. The shoes are nearly clean, but there are still pebbles stuck in the soles. Our doormat will have to use his tongue to remove them if he wants us to enter the club.