The other day we decided to have a few cold ones at Twamasha (hehehe – it seems this twitter talk is messing me up). Oh, you need to follow me here ----> [twitter.com] sawa? Anyway, so we decide to have a few cold ones on a Sunday evening at Tamasha as the jazz there is really tight! It’s me, Henny and ChairmanM. Having been recently through the dryer with Ching Ching Part 1, I am totally engrossed in my Tusker and the music. On that day, ChairmanM is surprisingly nil by mouth, very unlike him. I suspect his estranged wife is still giving him problems. Henny however is on the prowl! Now, it’s a known fact that whenever a hunter wanders off into the forest in search of prey, it pays to carry along with him a dead dik-dik. That way, if his efforts are fruitless, all he needs to do is to unleash his knife and start sawing away at the dik-dik, his meal guaranteed. Henny always refuses to heed this advice, 99.9999% of the time to his peril.

Pewa Mdongera (PM)

So there’s that ka-doorway from the inside of Tamasha to the outside section with the tum-small car park. The car park where the watchie behaves like those air-hostesses of first class. The ones who swing down the aisle amidst longing looks from economy passengers. They fika the boundary of first class and economy, look at economy guys like miserable offenders and then contemptuously draw the curtain shut, nzwwwiiiiiiip, condemning u to the misery of your economy seat. Yup, that ka-watchie does the same with the gate. The guy infront of you is opened for wide so that his AMG can glide into the parking. As u follow behind with your ka-battered Toyota, nzwwwiiiip, gate shut “Boss, kumejaa.” Aaaaargh!!!

But back to the point. The doorway between the inside and the outside area slash carpark is called Pewa Mdongera (PM) cause the chicks looking for loaded guys like to pose around there. Sure enough theres a PM over there looking sizzling wuwi! Sizzle ma-Nizzle!! Five foot 7ish, silky smooth skin, light colour, flat belly readily apparent from tight t-shirt, curvy backside in stark contrast to aforesaid belly. Curves emphasized more by the tight fitting jeans and high heels. Wuwi hata me I saw her, died and went into a state of nirvana!

Jisunde ChapChap (JCC)

So Henny does the usual. Approaches the gal and tells her ChairmanM would like to talk to her but is kinda shy. PM looks at ChairmanM those ones of “Kwani what kind of coward sends his pal?”. She then looks at Henny those ones of “At least this one is man enough to step up to me himself”. Henny is ndani and soon has the digits.

Two weeks later Im asking Henny how things are going and he’s like he calls her sometimes lakini she’s always giving excuses. Another two weeks later, same story. So Im like “Gimme the digits” and he obliges. So I call her up manwar-style and we have an interesting 15min convo. Seems gals like a guy who is interested but not really interested. Down but not really down. Cant understand them but hey, she agrees to a date.

Saidieko Straw (SS)

So the gal shows up at…. Wait for it…. The Republic aka Kichinjio LOL! I see she’s brought back-up but after a few minutes chit-chat backup is dismissed. Hmmm, seems things will be woop woof! But…. She orders for a Tusker, a glass and a straw. Surely, at my ka-local, in full view of kila-mtu-everyone! Halafu, that ka-hairstyle. Tum-lines with a weird side weave thingy/patch/thingabob. Looks like a giant housefly buzzing next to her ear. Infact, I see some cobwebs huko near the ceiling and almost want to grab her by the legs and use the thingy to clean the webs…

We are chit-chatting and having a ball but my eyes keep getting drawn to that hair-thingy, in some hypnotic Indian fakir “you-are-under-my-spell” kind of way. Aaargh!

Needless to say, the night ends abruptly that day.

Nakumatt Approach (NA)

So I get a call from the chick a few days later: “Milo swty. How u? Imagine ur not a gentleman” So Im wondering wassup but not info forthcoming. Eventually she’s like: “By the way, I just finished my shopping at Nakumatt. Si u come pay my bill?” I inform her that Im fine given my Uchumi shopping was done the day before. She hangs up the phone:))

Being single in Nairobi rocks!!! I must say Nairobi has nice ladies: fun, hot, exciting, mysterious etc. But it has its fair share of bad ones too. Take for example:

Mama-Makaa

Some time last year we were hanging out at our usual spot at the Republic. Upstairs with beer flowing. In attendance were Man-One, the The-The, ChifB AKA Pounding Father of the Nation, ChairmanM AKA Sexy Gates, Henny and Milo. Man-One was stressing the need for a chick’s soundtrack to accompany the Lungula activity which he fondly refers to as Nyung’unyaing. Now, its been rumoured that Man-One is fully equipped to the extent that he has been nicknamed Dangling Fury, Mjoloba Business and Mizigo amongst other names by his former clients. So he was describing his escapades with a village gal the last time he was in shags. The part that got us was the soundtrack once the activities had began:

• Man-One: *Grunts, Huffs, Puffs*
• Villager: *at the top of her shrill voice* “Monster! Farasi! Dume!
• Man-One: *mixed sounds of neighing, braying and mooing*
• Villager: “Destroy me! Finish me! Murder me!”

This has all us boys laughing our heads off to the extent Henny falls over and spills the cocktail of the gal at the next table. But Henny is a Kamikaze, king of suicides. Within minutes he is indulging the gal in convo and she invites him to join her as she awaits her pal. Given my knowledge that Henny is also a pace-setter (starts way ahead of the pack and never finishes the race), I give him the signal and he gets me to join them at the table. The rest of the crew look at us the very same way guys of Sohos downstairs look at guys of Sohos upstairs (a look of severe longing). The next item in the agenda is the pairing. Henny is having some beef because the current gal (hereafter called Squeezy) is hot but she claims that her pal is hotter. Now, whenever a gal says that, expect her pal to be a Dikwonkwo on the Ngwound (Archer, 2006). Given his dilly dallying I decide to take the bold step and start squeezing in my points. A few minutes later Henny’s face really brightens up. The gal that joins us is smoking hot! My Goinoka, molten lava fresh from the volcano, that gal is hot! I kick myself internally but what the heck. Win some, lose some. New gal is introduced as Mama-Makaa (MM). How appropriate given that she’s smoking hot but also that she smokes like a chimney. So MM starts up complaining about the joint, the service and everything under the sun. I laugh internally. Henny winces and his shoulders start to hunch. He is in for a long night.

Anyways, as (mis)fortune would have it, by the end of the night MM and Milo have hit it off, Henny and Squeezy are rapidly proceeding towards destination LJBF (Lets Just Be Friends). Numbers are exchanged and a future date with MM is set.

Hell Date

First, she comes late. This in the midst of several texts sijui “10 mins away”, “almost thea Swty” blah blah. Milo’s getting worked up but in usual guy-fashion I remember how hot she is and cool down. Then, she shows up with a pal!!!!! (Lets call the pal TAC ie Three’s a crowd). Now, I have no beef with a gal bringing a pal along so long as I have advance warning so I can also bring back-up. I control myself. “Imagine Sweetie my pal had to come along because her boyfie is held up somewhere. He’ll soon come over to pick her.” So I think to myself “Ok, Ok. At least she recognises that it's our date and not a gathering.” I hit the “patience pays” button a chillax entertaining the gals. Before long MM is stroking my arm, leaning over and resting her head on my chest, running her fingers through my hair er… on my clean-shaven scalp LOL! But that’s the calm before the storm! Yaani when TAC’s boyfie checks in even the temperature in the club changes. Monsoon winds seem to be blowing. The guy is the size of Papa Bouba Diop (PBD)! Halafu, my date MM is the one jumping all over him. How now? Now why? Then… Instead of picking TAC and bouncing, dude enskwonces (Archer again) himself comfortably with us, no hurry in Africa. Next thing, MM disappears and so does PBD. Im left there vybin TAC. I head to the loo and bump into them on the way. MM is busy doing the Tootsie Roll on PBD. Assi! My big mouth gets me in trouble as I let my erm reservations be known. PBD gets mad and approaches Milo menacingly. Before he can rearrange me my bouncer pals are on him. He is politely evicted from the club. TAC has to follow and of course MM follows them but not before giving me a severe tongue lashing. Whateva!

Lie Low Like an Envelope

So I don’t call for like a month or so. Works like a charm cause when I send a tentative text the reply is “Av not forgiven u but you’re lucky m still talking to you”. Ching ching! This time round the date goes well and chicka ingias bosk! So we have an interesting time together over the next month or so until the texts start.

1. “Babes we’ve not done something nice in a while. I suggest we do dinner”. She shows up for dinner with two of her pals.
2. “Boo, please join me for a drink after class? Av misd u.” Find her with a bill for herself and her pal from the past 3 hours of drinking.
3. “Milo, Swty, Imajin m sooo broke. Si u do something?”. I write back “Ok Babes, I sympathize”. MM sends an angry reply “Not that!! M talking Benjamins here!” Ok. Now who is Benjamin? LOL! I write back explaining that I’m not her father to be sending pocket money. Silence…

She shows up at my local in the arms of another man the next weekend.

Na bado…

• Could be that my company has landed its biggest contract to date and I'm over the moon... OR
• Maybe its this half-Rwandese gal that's got me at sixes and sevens about what I feel
  

• I finally got over my galfriend of 5 years (fiance of the last of those years). We are now friends. Took me a year of avoiding her to get there but gladly that worked out swell.
• Met a one-in-a-lifetime type of gal. Totally messed up on that one and still trying to mend fences enough to be friends. She's one of those keepers even if it's just simply as friends.
• Got hired in one of those blue-chip companies as part of senior management. Got fired soon thereafter for being "a genius that refused to be tamed" KM, 2009.
• Back in school doing my MBA. Love it, love it, love it!!! A year and a half down the line and the effects are amazing. And the contracts I've been able to land, eish!!!
• Then there's my half-Rwandese gal. A bit too early to make a call on that one but boy, oh boy, Im in for an interesting ride. Lets see how that goes.

The rest is a story for another day but the ladies we were transporting ended up in K2 courtesy of the ladies’ everpresent plan B as Henny and I awaited the cops andstatement/insurance/excessmisery!!!Nyangaus! Nyaaaaaaannnnggggggaaaaaaaauuuuuuus!!!!!

Another collabo with Guest Blogger

The other day at Tamasha I witnessed an interesting scenario at the kwa watoto. An Aegeus look-a-like galloped into the loos and resorted to peeing profusely amidst a series of chortles, giggles and neighs. His potty training was still intact as he had his trousers down at the ankles (like the young ones do), his colorless thong - worn the wrong way round - clearly visible below his Fundi Frank tank-top. At a certain point, in true dog-to-tree fashion, he raised a left leg and proceeded to sprinkle away unabashedly. It got me thinking about the so called short-call.

Call it what you may: susuing, weeweeing, taking a tinkle in glee, kunyora, sweet release, walking willy wanker, water-gun wars, mkojo mkuu etc – the point is, this is an activity not without its wees woes.

Act I, Scene I - To Pee or not To Pee

That must have been the question William Shakes-his-spear asked himself over and over on shaking his spear having done the deed. His thoughts were on the hassles and hustles:

Arriving at the loo, Inexes discovers a long queue. The urge is urgent and the need of needy proportions. Soon he begins to tiptoe in true ballerina fashion, left pirouette, right pirouette. A series of Masai- and Samburu-like jumps are unleashed with jaw being jutted outwards and upwards with each landing and being recoiled for the next leap. He still has time to take a few snapshots of his belly in the urinal mirror mid-air. “C’mon guys,c’mon!!! Maliza chap chap!!!” Damn, a slight leak and the front of his trouser is irrigated by a few ammonia droplets.

Act I, Scene II- Me I Love Narrow-pee Regardless

“At least let the starter be okay today!!” JM whispers and mutters under his breath, his furrowed brow revealing the inner tension and fear occasioned by previous encounters in crowded loos. He arrives at the urinal simultaneously with three other characters. He thinks of words of encouragement like those he normally hears when Pee-N Speaks.Within milliseconds of the preliminaries the comrades are gushing away in frenzied unison. Unfortunately JM’s NCC fire-station truck has empty pipes and pumps. He squeezes little josh amidst persistent tugs and tweaking to the left and right. Still nothing!!! The comrades are beginning to wonder why he is there… a few self-inflicted, well placed slaps to lil josh and the rivulet begins accompanied by posterior gASSy sighs of relief.

Act I, Scene III – Pablo Pee-Castle

Now, Dooaz Michael-angle-loo loved doodling and sketching in the loo. So he starts the work of art top-down given that pressure is decreasing at an increasing rate. The concentration is intense and the mood somber. Working on the Moaner Pisser is serious stuff. Initial arches are drawn against the dry urinal wall with strokes that are firm and manly. Drat! Running out of paint… The paintbrush is shaken in unison with the natty dreads as the artist withdraws his weapon and retreats from the studio. The incomplete work of art is desecrated and overwritten by the next occupant, Kirima, who unleashes floods of mineral water bottled at source from the slopes of Mt Kirima.

Act I, Scene IV – Pee-bo Bryson ft Peepee and Susu Winans

Having finished the extrication the establishment is treated to a rendition of “a whole new world” (with Archer singing both voices of the duet) marking the relief from release …indescribable feeling... Previous drops at the front of the trouser have since dried. Sadly, placing mshale-junior (MJ) to bed also has it risks. Clamping MJ between the index and middle finger, Archer delivers a series of shakes, shivers and quivers to empty the buffers. Thereafter, the clamp pressure is increased and squeegee-like motions applied forward and backward to ensure no hidden manyunyus and marasharashas remain. Comfortable in the thought that he is safe, MJ is laid to rest and Archer saunters away. "Drat!" There is a cold wet feeling at the tip and evidence of the deed is apparent from the frontal, wet trouser stain.

Act II, Scene I – The Pied Piper of Peepee

Aegeus was always a shy one totally afraid of the loo. The urinal was never his friend. He hated when there were queues. He’d fidget and shuffle in his feet. Other patrons would wonder what his problem was. To him Walking Willy Wonka was a private ceremony just like Wanking Willy Wonka. He always blushed. Overcome by guilt that his behavior was always deemed inappropriate causing undue sufferation durin urination like flatulation during copulation.

Act II, Scene II - Crouching Tiger Hidden Peepee

For starters, he handled his zipper like a delta force tactic. It was secret ammunition to be retrieved under tight surveillance. Like a witness-protection witness in a court of law. Rapid and swiftly. His body so close to the urinal that he was near mounting the porcelain receptacle( after all it had been a while). The nozzle of the small rifle aptly wrapped by foreskin, aptly wrapped by the left hand.

All the while Aegeus looking backward to see if any outsiders have visually infiltrated his peeing ground. Satisfied that his villi in his villa is safe he releases the sphincters.

Act II, Scene III - Pee Free or Die Free

Sometimes overwhelmed by the social bug. The Aegeus sheds his inhibitions and begins to syphon the python proudly. Unzips with one motion. Whips it out in one swing. And spray paints the urinal, like a garden hose to a garden. He breaks all the Urinal Rules of engagement. Makes eye contact with other hoses and waves them hello! Then makes eye contact with the unamused gardener and asks “whassup?!” With a wide crooked smile… and when he finishes shakes his hips in a Shakira-like fashion, and his piece like a bic refusing to write. He swings back his hose into his loin cloth like a belly dancer…and saunters off.

Act II, Scene IV - Hurry Peepee and the Order of the Bladder