CLUBBED

Someone sung that the club is not the best place to find a lover. I wonder what experience he has had with chics in clubs. He might have had a terrible experience with chics in clubs. Why would anyone look for a lover in a club anyway? Of all the best places one would think of? Why not a park or even a matatu in the case of Kenyans and the subway for those not near the gates of our black soil. But I understand mjangos are not so courageous when it comes to live approaches. By the way few things are the hardest tasks men have in life. One, making a woman to stop crying. Two, trying to make a woman not to cry especially if he is the reason why she wants to pump out the tanks of tears she has I don’t know where. And three, lively approaching the fairest of them all. Mjangos think the last one is easy. Of course I don’t deny the fact that there are men who are pros at these things and fear nothing but the smell of the devil himself. But trust me there was a time this man that is a slay king by day and a farmer in the cozy of cozies by night was once a dweeb in the game of thrones in the ladies arena. So I think the club is for those mjangos who only get courageous when abit tipsy. I hear when tipsy, some people who don’t speak English fluently in normal life get to speak the best of the foreign language. I don’t know how that works though. I am trying to picture how I would speak when tipsy (God forbid!) since I speak too much of English. When that day that should never come does come, may I be recorded on video full time. I really hope I will speak in Luhya. I’d have made my pops really proud.
But the club maybe is still not the best place if at all you’re looking for a lover. Meet a girl on the dance floor shouting and shaking what her mama gave her but told her to handle with care when she goes to campus, you fall for her at first sight… fast forward, you meet again in the same club on the following weekend with both of you in your worst behaviors, you fall a notch deeper for her… fast forward, you decide to take it to serious levels which demand that you both be sober of course. So you investigate who she is friends with from your boys. No wait, you fear that that might tip off your fellow lions yet some of them are better than you when it comes to lip servicing the female species. So you go to your best friend who is a she. Point to note, every man has a female best friend. Ladies, do not be lied to and at the same time do not react wildly. It’s never anything serious. Never anything that you think of like the way you’re thinking about that girl that your boy hangs out with when the cat(who is you) is not around. I didn’t say they come in handy during dry spells. No I am not the one who said that. Like I have a she-best friend. Oh Lord why did I say that now? So perhaps this is how it goes:
It doesn’t start directly. An opportunity in a story quite relevant to the burning query is the one that is highly sought for; so that it may sound like a coincidence.
She asks, “Where you clubbing this weekend?”
Pretending to think, “Aahm this weekend is a little bit tricky.”
“How come? Kwani what is up?”
Summoning courage, “I want to go on a date.”
She-best friends react blissfully to such points. If there are people who have the best desires for men in this life, then it has to be she-best friends. Many times it has been observed that our main persons fear seeing us, boys having fun. I once proved that from a mjango of mine who is almost getting engaged. His soon to be fiancé just couldn’t let the conversation go without him agreeing to her plea not go and play
basketball. Imagine? Just basketball? Now what of a boy’s day out at Liddos? That would still be fun wouldn’t it?
“Eish, so who is the new catch mjango?”
Laughing shyly, “The bait is still yet to be thrown into the waters. We have met twice now in the club. I think I like her.”
“Ahaa nice. So where is she now?”
“I am looking for her number. I was hoping you’d help me find it?”
“Ah! I think I know someone who knows her. Wait, I have to ask, what is so special about her. Its long since I heard you sounding like this about a girl,” See they even know those days we are having a love fever.
“Bestie let me tell you the girl can party like no one’s business. When she laughs she sounds like she is singing…” Mjango have you ever opened up about something until you feel a tear prick your eye? I believe manhood begins where the tear is swallowed back. Too bad we have fellow men who shed too much tears shamefully as if they have an onion for a nose.
Then later that night, she-best friend sends a whatsapp.
Hey dear. Guess what?
With an excited emoji… Tell me.
I have found her number.
Sends a pic.
Is she the one?
Wuuuuuh! Yea. Send that number ASAP. That’s why I love you bestie. (Code red alert for the ladies with baes.) What would I do without you aki…
Ahaa. You should buy me pizza. Laughs and goes offline.
He stares at the contact sent to him by his she-best friend. There is glee on his face and hamster like fear in his heart. He feels successful for finally getting her number. It’s like a pot of gold to him. If only ladies would know how we adore the ten digit numbers in their lives. I remember how I felt when I was in form one when I landed my hands on nine digits of my crush back then. I can’t even remember who it was. Was it you who is reading now? She gave me her number only for me to realise later that I had left out a single digit. Or did she do that intentionally? I realized it when I had gone home a day before school and decided to take my precious time to text her and only her. Every other contact on my phonebook at the time was as good as not even having a phonebook at all. Just you wait till those people who say they are the better option tell me that that number is incomplete! Yet there was no time left to hustle for the full number. It was time to go back to school for heaven’s sake.
He texts her on whatsapp and plans for a meet up.
On the D-day, mjango is dressed as if going for a red carpet event. He arrives at the venue before time. It’s a man’s rule you know. He is quite sure that he is loaded just enough for what is necessary for a first date. A sane man wouldn’t want to do more than just drinks or a snack on the first day. He can’t stop smiling to the corners of his ears when he thinks of how lucky he is. He even looks at pretty bodies passing by and for the first time, he doesn’t feel like chasing after them. He feels like he has promoted himself from a hyena to the lions club. He has found a lioness to compliment his pride and she would arrive anytime then.
The designated time passes by seven minutes. He decides to chill. It is too early to throw his gentleman attitude out the window. He orders for a light drink as he waits. Being a hustler, he knows he has already spent his share of the budget that day. He doesn’t mind since his intuition tells him she would arrive before he reaches halfway into his drink. He throws his eyes out the window and sees some traffic. He tells himself that she must be stuck in traffic somewhere in the city and she is not a mjango like her that she would alight and walk through the snake of vehicles. He texts her and she replies saying, “Nakuja hun.” The name she called him on the text is to soothe him to remain cool for another twenty minutes. He doesn’t realise that move though.
On the eleventh minute just before his sanity spills outside his ears, his phone vibrates once while on the table. “I’m here,” the text reads. He restores the lively and manly face he began with, clears his throat and sits up. He sees her ascending the stairs gently as if the stairs will fall. She is on heels and a mini dress.
His heart beats in a symphony or maybe beats by every step she takes. She reaches the head of the stairs, stops and doesn’t proceed. What is she waiting for? He thought of waving, maybe she doesn’t see him. She looks at him and smiles mildly. Yes she does see him. So then what is it? Should I come for you? Maybe that is what I am supposed to do. He thinks. He hasn’t been on a date like this before. He started feeling like he should have watched a date tutorial on YouTube. He stands up. Before he takes a step away from the table, someone else shows up. She is beautiful. Lighter in complexion than his date. Packaged with knockers that deserve an award and as a result, a cleavage just enough to aim a marble through it. They look at each other murmur somethings and they both laugh. His date points at him. They cat walk towards his table while his jaw is still hanging in disbelief.
“Hey mjango,” his date says as she hugs him, “This is my best friend. You better be loaded because we are hungry AF!”
Mjango is still silent.
“Why did you choose this table? It’s so small. We can’t all fit here.”
“There are two chairs here anyway,” her friend says.
“Let’s go to that table.” The two ladies look at each other in agreement.
“You still standing there? Let’s go dear. Should I remind you you’re the man here?”
One word came to mjangos mind: Slayqueens!
Club materials are never to be trusted ever again mjango!