•Sunday, October 08, 2006
by the bachelor from unwind magazine in 'the leader' weekly paper
every man has a complex inbuilt storage facility in his random access memory. they are little files saved under intricate codes that even the best hackers can't crack. some are marked x-files which contain all the dirty laundry in the form of ex-girlfriends he has had. some are f-files, which are sorry failure files detailing his failures with certain chics, chics who wouldn't give him an audience or the time of day. then there are the l-files, these are lust files containing information on the chics he has had secret lusting for, the ones he dreams would show up in his doorstep wearing nothing but naughty intentions.
then lastly there are p-files, these are pending files. these are 'projects' that he started but didn't finalize because either he had to leave town in the middle of the night because mungiki was after him or because he left for shags for three weeks and when he came back, the trail had run cold. every man has a p-file, yes, even those happily married types beaming ear to ear in family photos.
i went rummaging through p-files. the files there had gathered quite some cake of dust. i dug through the mold and retrieved some very interesting data. meet sasha. i met her three years ago when i was in between jobs. i was beat up, hard up and out of my luck. i was jobless because the new creative company i was slaving for had misrerad the market and had been bundled out of business,. i was struggling to balance my rent and two square meals a day. it was hard but i'm your run-of-the-mill hard-knock guy-i triumphed over the tribulations.
i met sasha in a pub one glum evening when it was raining buckets and i had decided to shelter in a pub for a beer. i had excatly shs 460 in my wallet and some loose change. i also had a good eye for pretty things in spite of my brokeness. i picked her out of the fairly packed pub thirty seconds after checking in. she was seated at a corner. alone. the pub was seasons, kimathi street. sasha was waiting for some guy who couldn't get there because of therain. i saw her sipping redds and trying not to stare too hard at the entrance. she was lovely; the kind of chic you would gladly run in the heavy rain to meet. i grabbed my drink and approached her table. 'hi, is this taken?' i asked politely.
she looked up at me apologetically and said, "uhm, yes, i'm waiting for somebody".
"that's ok, let me just cool my heels here, i promise to promptly leave when she comes... or is it a he?" I pulled a chair and sat.
"It's a friend of mine," she said almost reproachfully.
Her friend was a no-show, we we had sat there and talked for over two hours, even when the rain had long abated. I couldn't buy her a drink because that would have complicated my financial equation, but I picked her digits at the end of the evening and promised to call her. And I did, a couple of times, but I never made the effort to fix a date with her because I was church-mouse poor.
I was not keen on starting anything I couldn't finish; wooing a lady requires money despite what other optimistic guys might say. It's cut and dried, you need money to seduce a lady because no self respecting lady will allow you to take her to Luthuli Avenue for fries..over her dead hide! The only ladies you don't need money to seduce are those chics deep in the villages where a bus to town leaves every Wednesday and Friday mornings. But I hear even that is changing fast. I never borrow money to impress a bird, no matter how stunning. I was dirt broke so I pulled away, and locked her in my p-files until then that my status quo would change.
Now that I am totally womanless and can afford a few luxuries, I decided to revive the Sasha project. Her phone number, surprisingly enough, was still working when I called. She didn't remember who on earth I was. I didn't blame her, it had been a while. i reminded her of the rainy evening. 'Oh, Okay...hi?" she said hesitantly.
I laughed and said that I knew that it had been long and that I didn't expect her to remember me from after all these years. I told her that I rememberered her very well (a lie) and that the day we met she was wearing a dark top (another lie) and that I had mentioned that the perfume she was wearing reminded me of my sexy high school teacher I had a crush on (one big lie). She marvelled at the clarity of my memory, then I had asked her if she was willing to live dangerously and meet me the next day at a Lav Azza coffee house.
"Oh," she giggled. "Uhm, how will I tell it's you?"
"Leave that to me, I will text you what I'm wearing. Can I make a suggestion?"
"Okay"
"Wear somethin without sleeves," I said.
She laughed and asked, "why?"
"Because I remember you had impressive arms."
She laughed and said, "we'll see".
She showed up at Lav Azza all right. She was also more beautiful than I remembered. And she ahd on a sleeveless top, with a string holding it running behind her neck. Sexy. She had added a bit of weight since the last time I saw her. i didn't care. She still turned heads. i was in the game!
"How did you ever get so beautiful?" I asked her as she sat across me. She laughed uncomfortably and blushed. She was nervous, I could tell. So I decided to ease my foot off the flattery and try loosening her by making her laugh. And laugh she did; thank God she had a sense of humour. She told me she was working with a car hire compnay as a sales executive. She told me she had a boyfriend who was out of the country (amen), she told me she oved ice cream, Denzel, cats and me who finish what's on their plate. She told me she loved movies and hardly read books (I can live with that). She told me she loved my cufflinks and my eyebrows.
The date was a runaway success. I walked her to her stage at Kencom and hugged her properly like a gentleman would.
"I had a great time," she said with a sweet smile.
"If you really did, then you will let me see you again soon." I stated with a grin.
She smiled and said, "Sure, call me." Then she got on her bus. I practivcally floated home, whistling inder my breath and feeling on top of the world. I had my foot in her door. Wherever her boyfriend was, he didn't know that I was just about to become his worst nightmare.
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11 comments:
Very nice J.P. very nice. Is there a sequel to this story coz I like where its going.
I've heard of x-files, but l, f, and p-files are new. Fascinating story! I'm dying to find out what happened next.
This was a great story! I can relate because I too have some unfinished projects!Looooooooooooooool!
i have some p files, enough of them caused by some f files. when the equation is right, i'll square everything. that's a promise i have made to myself.
A guy you didn't float home i think i saw you skipping like a lil gal...
cheers
sly very sly LOL poor boyfriend who thinks he is the best, case of Compe Roho safi....
tell more
That is quite a number of files and they do need filing neatly because I envision chaos if they ever get mixed up.
Please fill me in on what happened next...
http://mywordsonly.blogspot.com/2006/10/kbw-member-no-more-part-1.html
@anon, hope to get the continuation of this also.
@girl_next_door, once i find out whats next, will update
@acolyte, a thousand and one p-files. they come in hardy at some point.
seems you are a blog superstar in the making, rattling the blogosphere. once you get high up there tell the king that in such and such a place there exists one jp. peace and keep it lively.
@bomseh, i think there should also be some s-files for successful liaisons. or c-files for current girlfriends. you need to diversify from x-files and convert the p-files into c-files or s-files.
@anon, talk of testesterone magic, so gentle yet so vicious
@gishungwa, compe ni compe roho safi, kila mtu ajitetee roho safi. poor jamaa, he thinks he is the whole world, kumbe!
@prousette, what a concoction if they get missed up, some should be under lock and key, others under the bed or under the pillow. if the bachelor provides more, will update
@her_boyfriend, you are so fired! irreversible damage done.
It not her I miss, its you... I miss our 3-some... again, esp you...
Love you, man, boo-hoo-hoo
I feel you totalli on the unbalanced equation...U've gotta hate those...I always thought of my P-files as my f-files,now I have hope...
Seriouslii what transpired!!!