Back when I used to drink, I’d find myself in a squabble with women.
And 99% of the time, they’d threaten to fight me – an eventuality I’d dismissingly laugh off. Suprisingly, none of them ever followed up on their threats. Maybe it was my dismissive attitude or maybe they could tell I was an edgy person – the kind you really don’t want to fight. Either way, they usually walked off.
It’s very easy to spot confrontational women. There’s always some restlessness bubbling below their surface. I make it a point to avoid such women. I can’t comprehend the mindset of men who marry such people.
Back in Nairobi I used to drink in one pub where the Kikuyu bartender would dish out slaps. The slaps would occur randomly, at moments you couldn’t predict. You’d be sipping your drink, next thing you’re getting slapped very hard. And the people getting slapped were not kids but grown men. Heavily-built men. For some reason she never attempted to slap me. God knows what I’d have done. Probably nothing.
I once entered a wine & spirits shop and was just in time to hear the bartender – a woman in her 30’s – tell her friend, “huyo jamaa alienda bila kulipa. Lakini najua lazima apite kwa hii barabara. Nikimwona nitamkimbilia nimshike tu hivi shirt (she violently gestured)…”
I quickly left without ordering a drink. Drama ni vitu sipendi.
Hawa violent women ukiwadinya huwa na ka entitlement flani…Reminds me of a supermarket In Nyandarua called Mama watoto Supermarket, I doubt if it still exists
No, you could tell it humiliated them to their core. And yet they did nothing except feebly complain. It wasn’t a posh bar. It was merely a small joint frequented by men who’d been harassed by life.
One time a short muscular guy started working there as a waiter. He’d take orders and serve customers beer. He was a polite kind guy – you could tell from his face. One time the two had a disagreement, and the woman flew into a rage and slapped the man.
It was hell after that. It took several men to hold the guy. He kept raining hard blows on the woman’s head. There was a look of shock on her face, like she couldn’t believe the guy had hit her. Soon she started crying.
Weeks later I got drunk, popped into her bar, and told her she deserved the beating she got. For the second time I saw that stunned look on her face.
That was two years ago. I went there three months ago. She wasn’t there.