The other day we set out with my boys for a walk about town. It’s not like we had planned for that hike, or that we were obliged to go out, or even worse, that we had arranged dates with our girlfriends that we had to execute in CBD. Nooooo (shaking head). It was just one of those numerous occasions when you walk into your buddies’ crib and find Mark re-watching The Player season one for a 49th time now – he claims he’s falling for Kassandra, I throw my eyes on the other side of the room and notice the other guy (Kim) still coiled beneath his sheets. I approach his bed and pull the duvet off him cause 12 has just clocked in so I don’t expect him to still be dead to the world, he raises his head and grumbles. He lifts his upper body, assumes a sitting posture and supports his back on the wall, yawns loudly, runs his right hand through his face, shakes his head and struggles to open his eyes wider.
Half a minute later, Kim dangles his feet in the air and complains of yester-night’s long cold night – Mark, who’s now watching The Player series for a 49th time exiled him last night. He later narrates how he had to stay awake the whole night in some classroom. He had to push through the night by watching, downloading videos on YouTube and possibly googling funny stuff using the school Wi-Fi. He also hints why he will live to hate mosquitoes due to the tough battle they (he and the mosquitoes) had all through the night. We all laugh and pray that Mark didn’t do a ‘shoddy job’ overnight – we can always know. Si it’ll be a waste of time to exile a comrade for a whole night yet fail to ‘perform’, eh?
Like, when Mark did a cool job last night, we will one day bump into that lady and they will embrace frenziedly and express pleasure and satisfaction. Or the lady will always (want to) come back to this guy’s room for her own reasons. On the contrary, when our dude happens to have failed to fully deliver his duties the preceding night, when we one day run into that chic, she will only wave at Mark from afar cause she will have found cooler waters somewhere else. I’m talking of clean cold water that easily quench her thirst on a single gulp. And however much Mark will try to have her back, she will never show up again. (Please be advised that the writer of this content didn’t learn this knowledge practically, he collected the data from his numerous friends, and foes).
Anyway, after the mirth and the jests, Mark asks me to produce form for today. Hardly conceptualized, Kim cuts in that he has to acquire a tablet, so we should go with him to town and select the best tab for him. Kim finds pleasure, or rather, prides himself on the latest electronic gadgets and communication appliances. He’s an IT guy, he’s actually the one who was to fix my Compaq when it pretended to crash last week. If you read last week’s post you know what I’m talking about.
We are ready within 2 minutes. There’s an interesting thing here again. Like if we were girls we would have used like five hours to finally ready ourselves for the unplanned hike. But because we are men, all we need to do is wash our faces and apply some Nivea for men, then set off. No time for drawing eyebrows, sijui weighing whether to apply the red or the yellow or the green lipstick, or taking time to decide whether or not to put on a brassiere, or testing which outfit deserves today’s occasion by putting on each pair of clothes in the wardrobe and viewing ourselves in the mirror at some angle – to see which outfit is a perfect match for our hairstyle and with which shoes that get-up matches with, and to see that the perfect pair properly exposes our curves, until we find the best pair. Aki girls you have a problem, you find all that time!
So we drop by some food joint and later embark on our journey. Hardly past the gate, we run into a group of lasses. There, Kim cracks a pun that sends all of us laughing. I try to suppress my glee but finally it overrides me that all my 72 teeth refuse to remain confined in the mouth. They all decide to get out and experience the cool fresh scented air outside. I give the hardest loudest laugh. These ladies’ laughter grows even louder at my mirth. The misses tease and tap each other, the more they laugh the wider I open my mouth, this time not at Kim’s joke but at their prolonged giggles and uproar.
One of the girls finally sobers up and calms her friends. “Aiiii! Stop laughing at him,” she instructs. The mood abruptly changes as we (boys) smell a rat. I in particular zip up my mouth, my boys and I steal gazes at each other. Weird silence ensues before one chic sputters, “ok, there is a bean stuck between your teeth” she says (looking at me). I look down. I can’t face the embarrassment. I regret having chapo-beans for lunch, I regret walking with Kim, I regret widely opening my mouth to his pun, I regret prolonging my laughter long after his pun had travelled past the school gate and crossed several borders to other countries. Kumbe the laugh and giggles were not only due to Kim’s joke.
Mark finally contains the situation and brings back the conversation. Later on, Mark, Kim and the girls make funnier jokes and tease and giggle and laugh. But me I remain dumb all through (colloquial). I’m still nursing the discomfiture caused by the red piece of bean that just decided to spoil my day.
So we go to tao and acquire the tab. At about 4:30 we walk into this inn located along Moi Avenue. When you are at Ambassadeur, just walk down along that building as if coming to Railways, when you reach where that building ends, turn left and count like three shops on the same block until you read something like “…Chicken Inn”. Forgive my poor direction skills, Geography is one of those subjects I didn’t take seriously in school, but I was good in vectors. Ok, so we walk in there and order “Kuku Full” and drinks. I look in the mirror in front of me and notice some chic’s eyes on me. I look away and pretend to busy myself with the chicken before me, seconds later my eyes again land on the mirror and our eyes meet for a second time. One of us blushes, not me, since I don’t know how to blush, I smile back. My boys are so sharp so they realize what’s going on and cheer me on.
That chic gives me another look and stands up to leave, I inspect my mouth and teeth in the mirror before making for the door. I catch up with her a few strides past the exit. I stand in front of her and everything that ever resided in my skull runs away. I scratch my head, tap my feet, and regret approaching her. My lips want to say something but it doesn’t come out. She smiles and fastens the scarf around her neck.
“Hi,’ she greets.
“Hi too,” I say back.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Me too,” I reply.
She stretches her arm. I stretch out mine. We greet, she takes off. I regain my speech as soon as the crowd swallows her up. I join my boys and as usual, they want to know what transpired between me and that chic. They ask things like her name, whether we exchanged numbers, if she works or if she’s a student. Of course I have to lie for peace to prevail among us.
Later, we trudge along Haille Selassie Avenue to catch a matatu at Railways. Mark points at the two ladies coming from the opposite direction. He says that the taller chic, the one on our right is Carol – who spent last night in Mark’s room. “Mmh, she’s beautiful” I ascertain. We meet and Carol waves at Mark and sneers away, as if they’ve never shared anything close to a closed room, a bed or even bed sheets.