So we were a full car, three women, two men. A red Mercedes Benz, my friends, I don't drive a red one. I was seated at the co-drivers seat. He was driving, the women were behind. That should tell you something, we were boys.
Hot girls. Hot club, the kind you wonder, okay are these guys freezing me cause am underage, or is it that they don't think I am stinking rich? Or are they freezing me cause am not a foreigner, or am not white? Or the girls aren't beautiful enough? Not dressed right? That kind of club.
The women got in, they were walking ahead, they were with us. But it was the friends with benefits thing. My pal got in first, I got frozen. Okay. What the f?
"I.d?"
"really, my women just walked in..."
Then I started thinking, maybe I should have had my hands around two women, and acted loud, drunk and rowdy... But it was too late. The women were in, my pal had to take a step back and ask the bouncer wassup. It should tell you about the kind of girls we had with us.
"25 years sorry."
In my mind I was like...but those chics are eighteen. I think. Come on, am way older than her. But I don't negotiate with bouncers, idiot ones. When they act shitty like that they stop being my friends and become the help. And I don't talk to the help.
So...I get my wallet out, I look at him, remove a 200 note half way, I look at his face, I remove another 200 hundred note. I can remove, ten twenty, whatever but am getting in man. And I always do. That's the good thing about mula. It is like water, it takes the shape of anything you put it in. I was in, finally! Dented Wallet, but it's alright.
"wow you found a seat."
"oh, and you already ordered..."
That should tell you something about the women we were with. I watched the hand bags, and the drinks, cause am that guy. The guy who watches that sh as the others run off to the dance floor.
But I don't mind it, I don't mind it at all dammit, I don't think I have ever quite approached any girl directly. The women I've had, I don't know the sh that happened. But that's me? How is it with you? Aren't we old enough, it's easier to change the world around us to fit us than to change ourselves to fit the world. Yeah...
Let the music play, let me watch. I wonder why I bother showing up here. Clubs just inspire sex, the music makes you horny, the sudden increase above normal of women in scanty dresses makes me mad; you want them all but it's gross to have them all, clubs constantly remind me I can't dance, I get bored, and worse still I have to pretend am having a good time. I think it's better sweet cause...
"we toast..."
"yes we toast..."
"Yey, a toast..."
And at that moment when I watch my girl friends so excited and happy they are literally running around the club, screaming, I feel it's okay. And the guys are doing that thing they do when chics bend over in clubs. It's all good, I don't do it, cause I dance better in bed than in clubs. But that's me, bitter sweet at the club.
"what time are we leaving..."
That will always be me who asks.
"Kwani Bob,you not having fun..."
That will always be my friend asking.
"ai, am having fun, a toasssssssst to...!"
And I put my glass up in the air, sing along to the tune of the song playing, do a little man-yell, and they forget I wanted to leave after that routine.
But my drink has more Alvaro than alcohol. It's so diluted I can't get high, cause I don't like hang overs, and I love my liver, kidney, I don't know which one of the two I love more. Hapana, don't hate, my style, it's a free country. Kama wewe unapenda sawa... Aish, who was that complaining. Tutakufukuza hapa astoldbybobby. Usituletee
"boss, ebu... Excuse me..."
That's me moving my lips, the music is too loud, I know the waiter can't hear me, but he is the one who is going to be the one who leans in to hear what am saying, cause when you lean in, you aren't a man.
If you bend your back in a club, you aren't a man. You look as if you are worried about the bill, even if you are not, even thought the three girls you brought have found other three girls who are tanks. But it's alright. Let's party, let's not lean in to talk to the waiter, let the waiter lean in. He leaned in.
"can i please have ice cubes..."
"We don't serve ice cubes with soft drinks..."
"then you have poor services."
Yes, am also that guy who tells them they have poor services if they hurt my feelings. And the girl seated next to me is usually the girl who will tell the waiter to bring her another Black Ice and share her ice cubes with me. It all works out anyways. I get my ice cubes, o's many I want to throw some of them at the waiter. But, I don't want to cover the bouncers full house rent in one night.
Everyone gets known for something, know this club cause they put both the glasses and the drinks in the fridge, everything is chilled. You know this club for the music,you know that girl for her big a, you know this guy for his long hair, you know that bouncer for his over-friendly nature, we know this lawyer for picking high profile cases, and you will know me for only defending good people, even if it earns me nothing, I will put my own money into defending people who are right, not evil. Good people, and it will be an emotional thing, in that, I either win or beat myself up forever. I hope good people will pay, but if they don't. It's all good, at the end of the day, at my grave, I want to be remembered as the lawyer that only defended people who were good not evil. No, I don't care what other lawyers say about that.
You can take that to the bank, but even if I don't. I will take it to heaven, good deeds over there are a plus, right?
Those are the things I sometimes think about when am trying not to get angry at not knowing some hot girl on the dance floor.
"finish your drink we leave..."
Yes, that's me whose always told that.
"...can I?"
That's one of the girls I usually am with who gulps my half full drink up in a second. They pick there hand bags, there phones, and we head to the parking lot. Most of them can't even walk straight. But we were two men, three women, it wasn't a big deal.
"you drive, am too high..."
And I take the steering wheel. The sitting arrangement is changed. Am on the drivers seat. There is the girl who likes me more than she likes my friend seated at the co-drivers seat. And the other two ladies sandwich my friend on the back seat.
"we get some kuku, and chips at Kenchic?"
That's always from hapo nyuma.
So we drop by Kenchic, we make noise there. We hold each other inappropriately. And leave...with our chicken.
"aren't you guys dropping me home."
That's usually the chic at the back, who is usually not as high as the other one. Was waiting for the kuku perhaps? Am not judging...
"you want to go home, I thought we were to have a party? The three of us..."
And he is upset, but not quite, he can't show it, cause he doesn't want to upset the other girl. I can tell from his voice though. So I turn appropriately to his apartment. I drop him with his girl, I tell him I will be back with his car.
"cool..."
They leave. The car becomes quiet. No more laughter, just talk, hey, the road... Turn right... Turn left... You missed the turn... You didnt ask me to turn early enough... Ahhh f you... No we will wait until someone opens the gate for you... Had fun...bye. Bye. She is nice. No. Yes.
And then we are just the two of us in the car. I would want h but not while driving someone else's car.
"why are we stopping here?"
"am getting a cab."
She wants to scream, shout, complain, why shouldn't I drop her home, how do I just leave her like that and I dropped the other girl home.
"...you know where that place is."
"yes"
"how much..."
"sawa, twende..."
So the cab guy drives in front, I feel safer when I drive to odd places at night with a cab guy ahead. That way if anyone car-jacked me I would have help. Plus I don't trust these women. My paranoia is on another level.
So we reach the chics apartment. She lives with the cousin. We start touching in the car. The cab guy is waiting to drive with me back to town. But am about to score, and I didn't know I would, I didn't dance, but stuff happens, nights take unexpected turn.
Safety, sex, safety, sex...car jackers, sex, car jackers, sex. I weigh my options, I finally tell the cab guy to leave, I will find my way. I pack the car out of the gate. I get into the house cause the cousin is not in. How convenient. How very convenient. We do the did.
She sees me off. She is worried I will not get my way home. I drive in the cold alone, I missed a turn, the car got into a ditch as I was reversing out of someone's gate. (I took a wrong turn) You know, the drainage trenches. You don't see them when you reverse. I accelerate for a while. I realize that the wheel is just floating in the air.
A few matatus stop by, some young guys form a crowd around me, heavily populated area.
"hapa hakuna breakdown..."
"fanya harambee tutoe gari..."
I make no promises. They form a large crowd in front of the car. They lift it, I reverse, the car jerks and almost hits the kiosks behind. But I break in time.
I roll down the window kidogo.
"sasa Mimi sina kitu..."
"come on, c you can c mimi ni kijana Kama nyinyi..."
Yes I could go into my wallet remove for them something. But how many we're they, like fifty. If they knew I had money, trust me, they would have helped themselves to everything even the car. Besides, they would have a problem sharing. 20plus people. Guess what would happen if some got some disnt. Fight, fight who? Me. Not fight really, you know what they would do... Young hooligans. At such a neighborhood.
"kwanza I've stolen this car from home..."
"my mum akiamka aikose, by the way ntakuja kujificha tu hapa kwenu..."
So they laughed. But there were still some nyuma asking.
"leta kitu ama uende hasara ya windscreen moja..."
And I told them, if they broke my windscreen, they would be sure I wouldn't move from where I was. Home would be worse hell.
But it was all a lie.
"next time ubebe pesa,"
"ehh utembeee na pesa."
And I rolled down the window waving saying.
"by the way...thats a good idea." yeah, right!
