You think you have seen them all until someone chucks a success card you sent them in class eight. This is a whole different story, altogether. I mean, all women are crazy but some are truly crazier than others. With the traffic situation today, I was stuck at a spot which reminded of an encounter I had some time back.
I was onto one of those random two-three many with a childhood bud, let’s call him T. His friend had a gig as a DJ at some haunt in the Ngara area, Nairobi. This was not my original plan, though. I had reluctantly tagged along from T’s prodding and more so, for lack of a better plan.
Soon, dawn begun suggestively licking the drowsy nightscape. I picked my cue to nudge T into joining the great migration that throngs nippy Nairobi mornings the day after. Well marinated and stubborn as ever, we just managed to moved joints. He said he was intent on grabbing some this or (l)ass.
We ended up in a smoky, stuffy underground spot where I remember following a South American football tournament. A cold Pilsner thrusted my already violated throat and kept the ‘Smokey Robinson’ image in check.
Right across was a lady. Or as they call it nowadays mteke!
She wasn’t particularly a thing of beauty, but those Gazongas elicited involuntary jaw-dropping. She was serious too, and not an off the mill ‘trapster’. Still, she was worldly and very particular on Stickmatisation which just intensified my interests as she appeared feeery ‘innocent’
All this, I learnt on the second meeting. It was on a random weekday and safely tucked in a corner ideal for canoodling. See, she was full of surprises. This time, she flipped some Chinaman phone and be hold, her glorious preciousness shot from several possible (and impossible) angles appeared in all the graininess pixels could offer!
I almost tilted the table over as levers worked my fulcrum when I peered closely enough –
Man, even Moses had not seen anything as dense one as that. The bush was stronger on this one!
Don’t ask why I kept on – I dropped enough hints for a smooth course of action, and on a particular Thursday evening, I was to transport the ‘Merchandise‘ home. One liiiiiiiiittle problem. I had about Kshs. 550 /- to my name. The month has taken a particularly nasty turn, but blue balls know no month, rather the many months gone by.
I had to wait for her to leave work (at some cinema) and had planned on hanging about the office until it was time.
All the same, I couldn’t sweep her off straight away to the stage. Tact. So I decided to gamble with one as I waited. She came, and naturally, had to order for her as well. She seemed in no rush. Therefore, even as I drained the last drags from my bottle, I steered the conversation towards leaving.
Then she ordered another.
My balls cringed.
Shortly after, I had only 150 /- to my name. Fare for both of us would be Kshs. 200… even as she kept asking what my plan was.
Bang your brains off ya mean?
“Yeah, yeah, we hang around this local, have a few, dance, at least before dawn…”
She had high heels and the walk to the stage was a painfully slow torture as my mind shuttled between how I’d make up for the fiscal shortage and giving her enough excitable reasons – in case she decided to change her mind mid – stream.
Boy, I dint even have fare back to work the coming day – but I was fery fery determined that the Syokimau Train spends the night at the Embakasi terminal.
We’re seated on the mat, at about 12:30 pm. It’s one of those late night javs run by a racket intent taking advantage of transport shortage.
Part II, en route.
dude, there is always a first time for everythin or rather a time when things happen to you for that very first time n you got no otherwise than to watch n marvel…that it happened to you.
everyone remembers that first time when they were about to experience it. when the air was tense and any wrong move would snap it like a dry bone. of course, the whole scenario was not all that new; you had heard about it, even talked about and if you gave it food for thought, you probley had speculated on ‘how you’d react’…then when you least expect it, the drama enacts itself and the ball is rolling, the air is tauter than a piano wire and you hold your breath as if one more breath would ‘strike the wrong cord’ that would ring the rest of your life…what you had thought would be doesn’t become and your reaction is different. you’re a whole mass of nerves and veins and that organ is pumping blood like an oil derrick….
now stop thinking…
and straighten up your twisted face for my toe twisting tale of my encounter…
we were dutifully arguing about the issue of celebhood and time. she had laid this claim that when you reach those echelons of the social ladder, time for me would be cut by more that a three quarter and i felted jittery at the thought of her abandoning me Kamangu style. without any betrayal of my feelings i subtly brought to her the picture of all the ‘celebs’ i have ‘met’ in school and the time ….but before any worthwhile level ground was attained, there was a knock at the door…
out of the blue, he stepped in and i knew our, sorry, my life will never be the same again…all eyes were on me, when the intro got rolling and the way i had always anticipated i’d react, hits a snug and am a smoten’ fella. honestly, how can you manage a smile when the future of that which seemed so precious to you instils this feeling to you that its about to change hands?????
luckily, though, i manage to whisper a pleasure to ‘meet you jim jones’ and a bell rings in my mind. i smile benevolently as i ask with almost certainty-
“wait, are you that graphics guru they talk about in the hood?” he smiles coyly coz of my flattery and as he nods in affirmative, a bittersweet cloud descends on me…sweet for the reason that i had some crack to vent my woes and smile at …and bitter for what my sentient being sensed would follow
as the dude unleashed his c.v, i cringed at my ‘incompetence’ and all the while wished i wasn’t there….he had a jobo, creativity, cheddar, and the looks n lugha to boost his all
halleluhyia!!!” i almost shouted when the time to leave only to make a decision i’d kick my chin for later. talk about fate following you to the last of your smithereen of perseverance. i decided to see off them as they went to location i knew not, and dint dare ask…and while they were at it i was just out in the rain. or doesn’t three spoil the sweetness. and the third burger was me? i could not hold it any longer. or , dude’s how would you feel when your missy is asked proffesional questions as ” ebu describe yourself, what do you like..” doesnt it not sound more of the questions of the initial stages of a whirl wind romance…goddamn how can the channel be flipped b4 ua own eyes??!!!
i called her aside and could not help but whisper in a husky almost hoarse and tense tone ” well, go your way and dont do anything i wouldnt do n kesho i need my goodies , right?” there was no time to argue and after what i had gone through, she couldnt dissapointment any further…she made a promise. a promise that makes me thank the day i was born and almost give the dude a brotherly hug…
and off i walked with the confidence of a stud in a street of vulnerable women…