I was seated at a table furthest at the corner at Mombasa's famous night club, Bella Vista. If you have been there you would know how loud their speakers can be.
Can you imagine the music gave me a stomach ache? Yes, the music was great don't get me wrong but I was seated next to the loud speakers which literally made me feel all my inside parts hanging and shaking like a tea bag does in hot water. I guess my stomach shook so much from the loud boom boom music that it made a cocktail of the food in my stomach. I was glad when it was 3am.
"dude, have a good journey man..."
"cool man,"
"remember to wear a Jimmy hat."
"say hi to your chic man."
"easy..."
The cab guy pulled the co-drivers door open. I sat on the back left instead. The next time I woke up we were at the airport.
I was a little tipsy considering thirty minutes ago I was at a night club. So, having to remove my shoes, my belt, my wallet, my watch two times passing through the metal detector thingies felt like trying to run in water.
All glass everywhere, I saw her walk in. She looked like an angel who owned everything. Her head was raised so that she was able to look down at everything, especially the attendants. Her pace was slow, her heels were awfully noisy, she is the kind of girl that makes an entrance. Everyone at the waiting bay noticed her for a minute their was something wrong with all our eyes...they were stuck on her and couldn't move!
When she sat down, all eyes still following her, she undid her hair, she threw her head forward so that all her hair was in her face. Then she threw it back and massaged it back. I felt something in my trousers. Am sure I wasn't the only one.
To cream it all up, she pulled a second chair nosily next to her. Was she really going to put her legs on it?
She did. Are you kidding me? How sexy is that? She was relaxed. It's not like she was the prettiest woman there, come on, this is not a club, this is the airport. Almost everyone is super hot and their confidence is over the roof top like penthouse parties. She wasn't pretty as such, but her dress was obscenely short yet appropriate, it had flare, like the little school girl dresses with lines that stretch when one moves. She commanded attention. And the fact that she seemed innocent to the entrance she made, she easily was the sexiest girl there. No, look at all the men, and the women, who wasn't trying not to stare at her?
We walked into the plane. I hate the social stratification of business premium class especially when am on economy. It rubs in like salt on an old wound. Good thing she was also getting on the plane from the back door with me. I wondered whether we would seat next to each other? I would let her seat at the window if she asked. I definitely would.
But what I didn't know was that it was an image she was portraying. Underneath her fabulous facade she was the kind that hid behind chat rooms such as Mig33. She was the kind of girl too frightened to engage in real life. She hid in dating sites. Then she moved on to Facebook as she got a little older. Come on, who wants to say they found love on a chatting site? Her username sweetbutcheeks? How did you and your girl meet? You don't ever want to admit it was over a dating site? Come on that shit is embarrassing. No, be real it is, no one is looking at you reading this, admit it. But its alright, you are far from being alone. You are always seated uneasy when people ask you how you met, right? But it was how she lived. She got frustrated. She met creeps, and she was still going to meet creeps. Online shit.
I really hate it when the hot air hostesses finally ask for what you want served cause I never hear what they say. Is it me or is it that they murmur? or is their little twang too much for my ears?
And people always look at you like a creep when you are like 'Pardon'. Talk like a Kenyan, or if you choose to indulge in an accent, do a Uhuru-Kenyatta one, it's clear. The other passengers seated behind you are never friendly when you start taking your time to order right. Its like they dint have food at home. So, I did what any ordinary person would do, I pretended I got the options she 'whispered' to me.
I threw my eyes to the trolley, I saw a Delmonte Orange that I totally hate.
"I will have a Delmonte Orange please."
She gave me the cashew nuts. And I tried to wash them down with the disgusting juice.
I couldn't see her. But I knew she was seated in front of me. So we would definitely meet as we walked out when we landed. Unless she decided to use the window out of the plane.
I really have grown, a while ago if you asked me whether I would buy a car or a house I would be quick to tell you a car. A Mercedes Benz s600 or ML 2011 model. Not those other ones people buy at the port with a registration number date that doesn't match with the year model. If you asked me whether I would pick ten pairs of shoes from City Mall or buy a set of ruby cufflinks I would pick the shoes, cause women see shoes first. If you asked me to pick an iPhone or a golden watch I would pick the iPhone. But I have learnt from my mom. The apple doesn't fall very far from tree. It sometimes wonders away but if always comes back to the tree.
I flipped through the magazines which people steal from planes. I found myself appreciating the houses more than I appreciate the cars. Cause mercedes benzs are for showy people these days. You walk through the streets in Kenya and you see a lot of rich people. But not wealthy. Ten years down the line, a car is almost valueless, remember ten years ago what car was the epitome of cars? How much is it worth now? What about houses? Build KICC rather than buy Bentleys. Why? Cause wealth is stored in things of value. Shopping at Sir Henrys is trying to buy status, cause where is the value? Owning a gold watch which the bank can recognize as wealth is how to be wealthy and not rich. And I remember I saw land in Lamu going for 400million probably a year ago. A year later Lamu is on t.v, the biggest port in Africa? It is going to serve 4 countries landlocked? With an electric train planned as per Vision 2030. And now I understand good taste, good taste is value. When the currency is weak, you buy the Monalisa, cause the Monalisa is a piece of Art that is going to always raise in value. If you keep it and pass it to your granddaughter, hope she will not be engrossed into the culture of consumerism and showiness. So that all she is rich but not wealthy. I admired tanzanite, and thought maybe what I should do is get some pure golden cufflinks. Value. Store wealth like that.
I am one to shout religious words in my head every time the plane lands. Hope we land safe. Hope we land safe. Should i pull this brown bag and throw up in it? Should i? Should i? Stay under control we are going to land safe. We are going to land safe. We landed safe.
"someone is coming to pick you up?"
"are you calling someone to pick you up?"
"taxi?"
"taxi?"
"taxi?"
Oh they never give you a break. She was standing next to me, the hot girl. It was cold she was now in a sweater. She carried a smaller bag than I was. I feel envious when I see people travel light. I wish I one day am able to travel light. Without golf clubs, without extra bags. I always look like am moving. My friends always remember to make fun of me about this.
When a stranger stands thirty centimeters next to you it is invading personal space. She stood that close to me. Then knocked my bag down.
"sorry,"
I said then picked it up.
She knocked down my bag again.
"sorry."
Then I picked it up again.
She knocked it down more violently.
I was thinking. What the hell?
I picked it up again.
She hit me with her bag. The police officers across the road with the dogs the size of calfs, that not only made one feel like peeing in their pants but also made one feel like they were carrying grass even one has never carried it, we staring at me.
I could see both the police men in their coats in the cold morning giggling laugher staring at me. I bet you if I was the one knocking her bags they wouldn't be laughing, i wouldn't be laughing, they would be in my space like glue on paper.
"heyyyyyyyy?"
She knocked me again and pretended to be very busy on the phone asking when the person picking her would arrive.
"what ups chic? Come on."
I moved away, she followed me. She did it again, I looked around to see whether people saw this injustice, but no one around seemed to care.
"I am not giving you my number"
"huh?"
" I AM NOT giving you my Number!"
"but I don't even want it, come on, stop shouting,"
"do you want to take my number?"
"noooo. I haven't even asked for it!"
"okay then. I AM NOT giving you my Number!"
"I am not giving you My Number!"
"okay, just give it to me if it will make you shut up."
"zero seven, two seven..."
When I clicked save.
"what's your name, excuse..." She had left. She was no where to be seen.
I hate being the last one waiting to be picked up. Everyone had left. It is as if you aren't loved when you are made to wait. The cab guys make sure you realize this.
"taxi? Those people aren't coming?"
"let me just take you to town."
"...if I need a taxi I will ask you for one."
I could stand there for three days, cause that girl and her drama had left my blood running. I guess she had gotten tired of the whole idea of online this, online that, I bet in her mind she wished she would bold enough to find love in a more romantic place which is usually anywhere, a petrol station, the restrooms, in the bar, at the beach anywhere but never online.
I guess, she had put so much time, gotten so frustrated but her pride wouldn't let her let lose, be brave until that day at the airport. Even before that she knew what she wanted. She knew she wanted to be brave, she dreamed that.
I guess that day she got so frustrated doing things the same way, she decided, hey, am at the airport, no one knows me here, I don't have a reputation here, so their is no way I can taint my reputation. I have nothing to lose. How about I just get lose, and make sure this guy asks me for my number....
I learn from her. It's always good to let us want things that we know we aren't brave enough to get, but we just want them, cause sometimes we might get so frustrated, and at that moment of frustration, rather than throw ourselves over the balcony, we will use that negative energy to do something as suicidal as shout out loud at the airport. Which ends up giving us more life than we ever had.
