It was a risk. There was a chance I would be ignored. Do you know how rejection feels? It feels like stretching your hand with a smile to greet friend only that your friend publicly ignores you. Humiliated, you have to retrieve your hand back. It was a public place I was talking to her from. I took my chance, I didn't pull her hand and drag her to a private room. I could but I wanted her to want to join me in private. I made sure she saw me walk into the private room. I hoped she would follow...
Let me tell you something about this dame. She is the kind you hear complain that as she walked along River Road doing her business, she met so many hawkers trying to sell her sliming pills, an stolen elephant, diet machines, lotions to soften her skin which eventually kill her esteem. She acts like it doesn't affect her, even though I know she needs compliments like mothers do. I couldn't compliment her in public out loud. Am not in a movie, I like food in my stomach, not butterflies. I wanted to compliment her. Tell her that actually those are just sales people who want to sell their products, and they just want you to believe whatever provided they make a sale.
I wanted her to follow me to a private room, which would be more quiet, where I could tell her the truth. The truth which she knows but needs to be reminded. That actually if she went on and did what everyone told her she would lose herself. Taking diet pills and all. I wanted her in private so that I could tell her about the day I saw her seated on a desk in a lecture hall. Her beauty actually comes from her having a little weight. How else would she have fitted so nicely in that black dress which turns white at her chest? She curved that dress seated so innocently on that desk. She looked so beautiful she could easily tuen into a blackforest cake, but you know when you get the wrong compliments from ill meaning people, you end up wanting to ruin that rack that makes the perfect cleavage by staving yourself. Cupcakes. I hope she doesn't go through with it. What happens when she loses those curves and that's what makes her so appealing? What if her curves become loose in the process? Baggy jeans are as fashion forward as spinning wheels. Remember that?
Since we are talking about curves, let's talk a little about curving through traffic. Did you know their is another park in Nairobi. Lets call it Lake-In-The-Middle-of-the-road. Thanks to my GPRS I got to know about it. I was trying to run away from traffic, and in my mind I was thinking, all these motorist are so stupid sitting in traffic. They should be like me, actually use maps to evade traffic, what I didn't know was my maps will lead me out of Tarmac roads, to Tarmac roads with potholes, then to earth roads, then next to roads like look like a maize plant nursery bed, there was even a road I went through that I might as well got out of the car, gone to see the pothole in the middle of the road which was so big it could have as well had a crocodile living there. Take a photo and post it on facebook. Probably ask the crocodile to tell it's friends about my blog, you know Nairobi Culture. Lesson: leave the GPRS alone! Anyways, I escaped traffic and got to the mall. It even directed me to exactly where I should park, the second floor. I got out of the car and headed in.
Have you seen a shop so Kenyan? Green, black, white, red all over... I had to walk in.
"You have everything Kenyan!"
I started to flip through the rugby shirts. Then started to walk away after finding nothing for me.
"we have things that aren't Kenya too..."
"what?"
"I actually walked here cause I liked all the Kenya in this shop."
"oh!"
"come on... I love my country..."
"your shop looks like my country, why wouldn't I like it!"
"Oh, sorry I thought... So are you going to pick something since you like my shop?"
"Sorry, no. I don't play rugby or follow soccer. Do you have anything tennis or squash now that I will buy!"
"no."
"...don't worry, I will come back when I want to pretend am a soccer fan or pretend I play rugby."
That hot shop attendant laughed a good one. Me play rugby, nice one.
I went to woolworths. That's where I was headed actually. The one at junction is quite large and I am not a girl I don't go around looking for clothes. I go looking for girls. Cause girls want everything, boys want ladies. I went to the hot lady behind the counter. (yeah shop attendants are always hot)
"hi."
"hi."
"I want navy blue chinos like the one am wearing..."
She followed me around the shop. I like hot women follow me in shops. Why? Cause the smile of a woman cures a thinning wallet. My wallet was about to go thin. But...
"no, I want the plain ones."
"but these are nice... They are plain."
"come on, they have pockets all over. That's not plain."
I started walking away.
"you know these ones with pockets all over would be good for you..."
"you know make you look..."
"what?"
"you know a little big."
I laughed a good one.
"You have a sharp marketing wit."
She laughed.
"you almost talked me into it..."
"am serious..."
"gosh you are good. But no thank you."
She started swinging the trouser on the hanger with her hand. (flirty)
"told you you are good, you could sell socks to a mosquito..."
I left her happy. Do you know how bored high end shop staff are? Easy prey.
She was sure I was complimenting her. She blushed so much the specs on her face melted, the metal and the glass. I swear. She didn't misinteprate my complimenting her like that sales girl in the Kenyan shop. Oh she ate it up plus a little more.
Later as I was getting something to eat. It affected me a little.
"you know it could make you look bigger..."
I have never had a problem with finding women, for others or myself. Though I served a little more chicken only not to finish it cause my appetite is something else. Besides, again I don't have a problem with women. Ask that sales girl, she would totally... Even without my wearing those pants with many pockets. I told you about her melting specs.. Yes. Women aren't a problem.
Let's get back to where we started. I was at a noisy place. There was the hot girl, who thinks she is not as fine as the curviest letter of the alphabet in calligraphy. All she wants to do is turn herself into Times New Roman, turn herself skinny and skinny will not work on her.
I was behind the door to the private room. Don't look through the key hole Bobby. If she is going to follow you she is going to follow you. If she wasn't meant to she will not. Don't show desparacy Bobby. Don't look through the key hole. What if she caught you looking? The moment Bobby puts his head on the keyhole the door opens and he is caught there bending unable to explain himself, she will be gone forever.
I looked through the key hole. I saw her talking to people around. She was working the crowd. Talking to one of the stars on one of the Kenyan drama series on television. She wasn't coming.
You know what desperate to you, right? Makes you look urgh ugly. It never works well. Try lying all your cards on the table and watch people lose interest in you. After that get so frustrated you become patient. Watch yourself sending one text good night, being the first to say good bye today tomorrow and the next day after making people happy then look at how they all turn desperate for you. Desperate people aren't cool most of the time, sometimes they are, but when you are patiemt. It says, I have everything, I want us to get to know each other closer then we can share in my beautiful life. But thinking about opening the door and asking that girl to follow me in, while everyone was watching would have made me look desperate, even wanting! Ugh. I would look like a total loser. Birds of a feather flock together. Even losers want to fly together with winners. Women choose, men pick.
I had three options. One, to sit there in the private room without letting anyone know I had been ignored. Which would save my face. Would you have done that? Yeah, typical. I thought so.
Two, I could open the door call her aloud hoping she would not ignore me. If she did then I would be sure everyone knew. Dead rat!
Three, I could got take her hand and pull her to the room. Over my dead body!
I decided to look desperate.
There were over a thousand people there. I was sure at least seven hundred would see me make a fool out of myself, or become a hero.
I walked up to the stage, stood on a table...
"everyone quiet!"
"excuse me, can I have all your attention?"
I pointed her.
"I want that hot girl in the black and white dress and blue light cardigan to follow me to that room."
Everyone was staring at me now. They didn't think it was cute, leave alone romantic. I felt like dying. I walked back to the private room. She didn't follow me. I had completely embarrassed myself. I was going to wait for everyone to leave before I came out. I couldn't face anyone. I hoped someone would walk into the room, pat my back and tell me something reassuring at least, but no one did.
I looked through the key hole. Everyone had left. I could leave...
She met me right at the door.
"hey..."
"I thought you left."
"no Bobby."
"can we talk? You know I just wanted to talk to you and tell you that..."
"...Bobby, wait first. I have to ask you something."
"no let me tell you something first dear."
"Bobby, ladies first, and don't call me dear again."
She started to move away from me.
"okay. Ladies first."
"Bobby, is that the kind of writer you want to be?"
"come on, let's not talk about my blog..."
I wanted to tell her she was beautiful the way she was. She was perfect. That she has to believe me. I didn't want her to start ruining her body and start looking like someone she was not. I wanted to tell her that her appeal was her own, and she was right listening to people asking her to lose some weight, which she had, she had turned perfect, and she had become bored, she wanted to loose more, lose herself and her appeal, I wanted to stop her... But she wanted to talk about...
"...Bobby, I am not into porn!"
"what do you mean?"
"is that the kind of writer you want to be, write such stuff like those goons who write porn, why ruin your reputation after all that?"
I just stood there.
"What were you thinking even calling that post 'Read Again...' ???"
I swear I tried to pull her back. But she left. She left the room, and she left my heart. She left my heart cause my heart needed her. You know it takes a certain level of resilience to put up something I have written, it's part of me, my ideas, sometimes even more. I didnt mean to be that bold, that arrogant, but all that arrogance and boldness dear is just a hard skin one grows when they do something that requires people's approval. And she was the only person that really complimented me. You know, you write something with hundreds and hundreds of words, and all one tells you is nice. Just nice! After all that... Or two words, thats nice.?
I love those two words, cause they have come from so many people. As in you wouldn't believe. But sometimes you want the girl that tells you exactly what parts of what post they liked. They ask questions... They remind you you are a good writer... You found an excellent hobby. And I had written a post that offended her. Even though it pleased so many they wanted me to please them back. As in act out that post with them.
You see walking into a shop and being asked to pick a pair of trousers with more pockets to make me look big is something I can handle, ask that shop attendant, she would bang me. Did I tell you I saw even her specs melt? You can walk through the streets and people try to sell you stuff that makes you think you aren't good enough, sometimes you need to change, sometimes you think the grass is greener on the other side and it's not. Instead of working on your garden you want to leave it for something you think is better...
I can handle a lot, but sometimes when I seem arrogant, bold even, remember that it comes from an empty place. In this business of having to put myself out there in the open lonely for people's approval and like, it kind of helps me to survive.
She left you know. She didn't let me say anything to her. I didn't look through the key hole. She ignored all the messages I sent her. We had walked together down a winding road in search of something true. Together we grew. But now our journey has come to an end and it's on to something new for me and you. So goodbye, my friend, until we meet again some other day. I know so much will change but looking back I can say I wouldn't change a day. I hope you can say the same. So many memories we got to make... the challenges we met... I'll never forget cause those lessons made us who we are today. Now we're taking the next step without a regret. No regrets.
This post is dedicated to misinterpreted compliments like the ones to the shopkeeper in the Kenyan shop, and to you my readers. I will miss you and your black white dress, curves and blue sweater seated on the desk in the lecture hall.
Without a regret. No regrets?
