So, with the Memsahib and the brat off to Hawaii ya Murang’a to see her folks, I decide its time for a little hanky-panky with the singo matha who I met recently.
We’ve had one other date, when she couldn’t stop talking about her Einstein-Krysha little shit. She didn’t drink then - good sign?
This day, I invite her to my old favourite - Kachoi, Baricho Road. The place has character, and its gotta be the oldest bar in NBO-254 operating under the same name. Lovely place.
So on this Karaoke Tuesday, am like “siucome to Kachoi we enjoy each other’s company?”
She comes with a niece or something, little gal with big knockers, and apparently bigger thirst.
In Kachoi virtually all drinks destroy 250/= so a round for the three of us is about 750/=. No biggie for Guka, am a Ktalk mirrionea after all.
Kidogo they ask for nyama and fries. 1800/=. No sweat. My company expense account is ok.
We knock them drinks down, one after the other. First bill, 4800/= (always clear bills as you accumulate them, that’s my policy). Second bill, 3500/=. Third Bill 2400. Total for for food and drinks 10,700 or thereabouts.
Somewhere along the line conversation gets shitty, in between their attempts to do Karaoke (poorest re-edition of ‘I’ll Always Love You’ I’ve heard). Same crap about Einstein. And worse, drunk, teary why did-he-hurt me-so dung about the ex. God, did I just spend my 10K for this shit? That’s enough ‘shiddah’ for me to ferk the hottest dirty titties from Russigeti for a month, mpaka nizaliwe!
Any way, kama mbaya mbaya. Mwanaume ni kumaliza mission kama Special Forces.
I don’t drink and drive so, at the end, I call Sami, my reliable cabbie from Wilson. Take us to Rio, Nairobi West, for a nightcap, and a happy ending. Just when we get the Singo Matha whispers the most incredible thing - “Am on my Ps, aki sweetie. Am sori”.
Shit. Bitch, who does this to a Guka who get’s an erection every once in a blue moon? How cruel can you be to an old man, Jezus!
So, I pay for their room, the cheapest, about 2K. I tell Sami to take me to my empty house (remember wako Hawaii?).
Following morning I get a call. She’s all sweet and spice, lovy-dovy crap. Then she lands the killer blow.
“Fieldie, baby, can you lend me 10K? Something has come up at home…bla bla bla”.
No, it wasn’t my rugged good looks she was after. No, it wasn’t my good conversation. No, she didn’t find me funny. SHE WAS ALL ALONG LOOKING FOR A SPONSOR, BITCH!
Sad, really.
Perhaps I need to retire from this game.
That 15k could have paid for two months worth of blood thinners.