My neighbour is slightly younger than my father and lives with his girlfriend who's quite younger than me. I guess in this day and age that's not even surprising leave alone shocking. It's not the kind of story that gives you pause as you go about your day. If anything, you sit expectantly waiting for the rest of the story as surely, that can't be it!
I have no doubt that he has a wife and family elsewhere who he has left for the spring chicken. Contrary to what you might expect though, today I present this story from the man's perspective. I had an older workmate who did just this. He moved away from his family when his girlfriend got pregnant.
Although I'd been working there for some time when the drama unfolded, I'd never once heard this guy say anything kind about his wife. Not the one. So you can imagine my jaw dropping surprise when I met said wife and found that she was a stunner (I always admire women who find a way to age gracefully). This woman was (and I suspect still is) simply beautiful. My workmate (let's call him Tim) had simple problems with her; she simply drove him crazy. Examples:
"Yesterday I washed the dishes (remember this guy's age set is the type that wouldn't know where the kitchen is) and she washed them again saying she knew that I'd done it badly and wondered what I was trying to prove anyway. Why did she have to do that? Why can't she be more appreciative?"
"The woman constantly complains about anything and everything! I'm loathe to go home! Waiter!"
"Romance? The woman has no idea what the word means. Nothing happens in the bedroom no more."
His girlfriend (who we'll call Njambi) didn't have half his wife's looks, but she knew how to make her man feel special. She was (and presumably still is (- I've lost touch with these people)) a very imposing person and not too young herself but I guess she captivated his attention in a manner his wife had long since stopped trying to. He was comfortable and at peace when around her so it was difficult to begrudge him the decision to leave his family (wife & 3 kids) for Njambi. He chose happiness. He (presumably still) supports both homes.
So I guess this is a wake up call to women. You must have heard it a million times before but don't take your man for granted & don't be the source of his frustration.
Postscript: the neighbour in question is very comfortable about his anatomy/masculinity and I've seen him naked. Twice. I'm still trying to wipe the image from my psyche! Idiot hangs around his door stark naked ...
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Miss Independent
Yesterday on my drive home I noticed that I'm a bit of a psycho driver. I'm not quite ex-matatu caliber but am well on my way. The crazy stunts I've pulled have me wondering and I even tinted the car windows so that men don't realize they've been out-maneuvered by a chick (for some reason that really winds them up).
I think it has to do with being used to doing things for myself. I open my own damn doors and fetch my own darn paper. I change my bulbs and shall open that jar if it is the last thing I do (which is why I need to buy things that have loooooong off expiry dates). I draw the line at changing my tyre ... and pumping it for that matter. Push came to shove, I could, but why sully my hands when there are so many young men willing to help?
In my mind, the above independence (if you'll let me call it that) doesn't work in favour of my getting hooked up. Why? Well it's so 2nd nature, that you just don't realize that the date who had initially wanted to drive you to the venue was left behind 3 roundabouts ago while you all but elbowed around with mats & proboxes for space as though you were competing for first place at the Rhino Charge!
My pal (a guy) says it has to do with age; the older you are the more comfortable you become in your own skin so you know what you will and will not take. It's like if today some guy I were eying told me to do X or he would leave me I'd recommend Nakumatt (you need it we got it) as the store he should go to for the rope he should use to hang himself. I'm too proud & comfortable to take shit. Not to mean I can't bend (pun fully intended) just that I do not expect to be disrespected.
Maybe all the above is the reason why I'm single, but I'd like to imagine that there are men out there who are interested in the independent type. If not, well there's this blog ... and I can always park on the side of the road waiting for that other guy to catch up! :-)
I think it has to do with being used to doing things for myself. I open my own damn doors and fetch my own darn paper. I change my bulbs and shall open that jar if it is the last thing I do (which is why I need to buy things that have loooooong off expiry dates). I draw the line at changing my tyre ... and pumping it for that matter. Push came to shove, I could, but why sully my hands when there are so many young men willing to help?
In my mind, the above independence (if you'll let me call it that) doesn't work in favour of my getting hooked up. Why? Well it's so 2nd nature, that you just don't realize that the date who had initially wanted to drive you to the venue was left behind 3 roundabouts ago while you all but elbowed around with mats & proboxes for space as though you were competing for first place at the Rhino Charge!
My pal (a guy) says it has to do with age; the older you are the more comfortable you become in your own skin so you know what you will and will not take. It's like if today some guy I were eying told me to do X or he would leave me I'd recommend Nakumatt (you need it we got it) as the store he should go to for the rope he should use to hang himself. I'm too proud & comfortable to take shit. Not to mean I can't bend (pun fully intended) just that I do not expect to be disrespected.
Maybe all the above is the reason why I'm single, but I'd like to imagine that there are men out there who are interested in the independent type. If not, well there's this blog ... and I can always park on the side of the road waiting for that other guy to catch up! :-)
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
The One Without a Picture
Every day I go to bed feeling guilty about something I should have done but haven't. This blog has been on that list for some time. I mean I have so many stories to tell: The neighbour I saw naked, the time I almost got into 3 accidents because I woke up feeling like an ex-matatu driver, the return of the guy I'm crushing on (1) and (2) (2 different guys .. I agree, I'm fickle), why it is impossible for ex's to remain friends, the crazy ways of the West African man, my camera mishap ...
Let's start with the camera incident. I was breakfasting at a hotel where I'd been staying for the week. If hotel food is fattening the breakfast is the absolute worst part. I love pastry and there are all these delicacies that I wouldn't usually let myself touch just laid out in inviting layers begging you to partake ... Then what's breakfast without eggs? Why bother having eggs without sausages? And the fruits? List goes on and on. So anyway, while I was happily stuffing myself, the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in person appeared and sat at the table across from me. I stared. Shamelessly. Ogled. He may as well just have walked off the page of the top 10 most handsome men ever. I watched him walk. Watched him pour his coffee. Watched him open his paper. I was happy (food completely forgotten).
Then I snapped back to reality. I needed photographic evidence. My friend says take pictures first and tell the story later. It's like you now .. you can't really get a feeling of just how good looking this guy was. Breathe of fresh air & cold cokes don't begin to compare. So I fished out for the new phone I was still trying to figure out, fumbled for the camera, lifted the phone so as to look as though I were just browsing through texts albeit at an oddly high angle, and clicked. That's when I remembered (and/or saw) that the flash automatically kicks in.
Mortified. You remember that neat thing Moses did with the red sea? Part it so the Israelites could stream through on their way to the promised land? How did I wish? Wa! I pulled an ostrich. If I can't see you (cause my head is bent down so low) you can't see me either. I hop skipped & jumped out of there, and that is why there's no picture accompanying this post!
Let's start with the camera incident. I was breakfasting at a hotel where I'd been staying for the week. If hotel food is fattening the breakfast is the absolute worst part. I love pastry and there are all these delicacies that I wouldn't usually let myself touch just laid out in inviting layers begging you to partake ... Then what's breakfast without eggs? Why bother having eggs without sausages? And the fruits? List goes on and on. So anyway, while I was happily stuffing myself, the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in person appeared and sat at the table across from me. I stared. Shamelessly. Ogled. He may as well just have walked off the page of the top 10 most handsome men ever. I watched him walk. Watched him pour his coffee. Watched him open his paper. I was happy (food completely forgotten).
Then I snapped back to reality. I needed photographic evidence. My friend says take pictures first and tell the story later. It's like you now .. you can't really get a feeling of just how good looking this guy was. Breathe of fresh air & cold cokes don't begin to compare. So I fished out for the new phone I was still trying to figure out, fumbled for the camera, lifted the phone so as to look as though I were just browsing through texts albeit at an oddly high angle, and clicked. That's when I remembered (and/or saw) that the flash automatically kicks in.
Mortified. You remember that neat thing Moses did with the red sea? Part it so the Israelites could stream through on their way to the promised land? How did I wish? Wa! I pulled an ostrich. If I can't see you (cause my head is bent down so low) you can't see me either. I hop skipped & jumped out of there, and that is why there's no picture accompanying this post!
Monday, March 19, 2012
To call or not to call, that's a dumb question!
We're women so we do this all the time: make the call we're just not meant to.
He said he'd call, he hasn't called .. why not send a friendly text to discuss that horrible accident that was on news yesterday? What of forward a funny joke we've heard? Or for the really ballsy types, we'll just ask him why he hasn't called.
The conversation (depending on whether or not he answers your call) may go something like this:
Him: Hello?
You (overly chirpy): Hiiiiii!
Him (a little over enthusiastic): Oh hi!
You (wondering if his phone doesn't have caller ID and even then, why he hasn't committed your number to memory as you have his): I was just checking up on you ...
Him (never missing a bit): And I was just thinking about you ..
You (forgetting that you'd felt slighted only 3 seconds ago): Oh that's so sweet! Would you like to come over for dinner later on? I'm cooking your favourite!
Him: Isn't that grand! You're just what the doctor ordered! I'm at work now, how about I call you when I'm done?
You (gushing and blushing): Great! Let's talk then!
Then at midnight on a week night when you finally come to terms with the fact that he's not calling and you've gone through all the silly excuses you made for him, you tuck in to bed feeling sorry for yourself.
There are a thousand books and 15,000 articles out there that will described to you exactly why you must not even look at your phone in a manner likely to suggest that your interested in calling. And they all make the world of sense. But none of them are any help to a girl seated home alone on a night when there's no power with only her laptop for company whose battery is running dangerously low ...
He said he'd call, he hasn't called .. why not send a friendly text to discuss that horrible accident that was on news yesterday? What of forward a funny joke we've heard? Or for the really ballsy types, we'll just ask him why he hasn't called.
The conversation (depending on whether or not he answers your call) may go something like this:
Him: Hello?
You (overly chirpy): Hiiiiii!
Him (a little over enthusiastic): Oh hi!
You (wondering if his phone doesn't have caller ID and even then, why he hasn't committed your number to memory as you have his): I was just checking up on you ...
Him (never missing a bit): And I was just thinking about you ..
You (forgetting that you'd felt slighted only 3 seconds ago): Oh that's so sweet! Would you like to come over for dinner later on? I'm cooking your favourite!
Him: Isn't that grand! You're just what the doctor ordered! I'm at work now, how about I call you when I'm done?
You (gushing and blushing): Great! Let's talk then!
Then at midnight on a week night when you finally come to terms with the fact that he's not calling and you've gone through all the silly excuses you made for him, you tuck in to bed feeling sorry for yourself.
There are a thousand books and 15,000 articles out there that will described to you exactly why you must not even look at your phone in a manner likely to suggest that your interested in calling. And they all make the world of sense. But none of them are any help to a girl seated home alone on a night when there's no power with only her laptop for company whose battery is running dangerously low ...
The Sharp Tongued Rose
I must take some time to tell you about my house help. She comes in once a week and cleans the house, does the laundry, cooks chapos (I love chaps (- double entendre .. what do you know!)) & irons. Bless her heart she is hard working but she is the most opinionated person I know. I really wonder what happened to the days when employers were feared and revered?
Her oddities include:
1. I don't have a soap dish since my last help the-butter-fingered-one broke it. Rose (real name) gives a heavy sigh whenever she's passing by the bathroom and asks why I just don't buy another one. So much so, I actually bought one today. Is that what life with a nagging wife is like?!
2. Rose has made it very clear that her working conditions leave a lot to be desired and she has half a mind to go the KBC way and march on the street demanding better working conditions. 'Why?' you might ask? Because apparently the numerous buckets I have and have used without trouble are apparently too small. When really shall I make that little investment in a big basin?
3. She let me know that if I must insist on leaving my key with the watchman (who is another guy with a story of his own) she just couldn't work for me. And she was dead serious. They'd had their differences in the past so at what passes for an interview, she put that as her minimum requirement, right up there with pay negotiations.
4. Rose thinks I cook well (she eats what's in the fridge on her day in) but my food leans too much to Indian cuisine which is great but just not African.
5. One day when I told her that she need not iron my beddings (since I just don't understand why people do that) she informed me that I might just get lucky (meaning a man may come visit my bed) and its always good to be prepared.
Here's to Rose!
Her oddities include:
1. I don't have a soap dish since my last help the-butter-fingered-one broke it. Rose (real name) gives a heavy sigh whenever she's passing by the bathroom and asks why I just don't buy another one. So much so, I actually bought one today. Is that what life with a nagging wife is like?!
2. Rose has made it very clear that her working conditions leave a lot to be desired and she has half a mind to go the KBC way and march on the street demanding better working conditions. 'Why?' you might ask? Because apparently the numerous buckets I have and have used without trouble are apparently too small. When really shall I make that little investment in a big basin?
3. She let me know that if I must insist on leaving my key with the watchman (who is another guy with a story of his own) she just couldn't work for me. And she was dead serious. They'd had their differences in the past so at what passes for an interview, she put that as her minimum requirement, right up there with pay negotiations.
4. Rose thinks I cook well (she eats what's in the fridge on her day in) but my food leans too much to Indian cuisine which is great but just not African.
5. One day when I told her that she need not iron my beddings (since I just don't understand why people do that) she informed me that I might just get lucky (meaning a man may come visit my bed) and its always good to be prepared.
Here's to Rose!
Monday, March 12, 2012
Mariana
I got myself Eric Wainaina's new CD 'Love + Protest'. I really like it and think it's brilliant. It is unfortunate that Eric still doesn't seem to believe it possible to sing one genre of music throughout a single song; so your slow jam will always and unfailingly burst out into kyuk one-man-guitar-type beats at the end. Having said this (and taken it into account) this CD is great.
(Spoiler Alert - Not sure it applies to music but there you have it) There's a particular song I've been playing in loop for some time now. It's called (no prize for guessing) 'Mariana'. Song's about a poor guy (financially) who's in love with Mariana. He asks her to give him a year to pull his life together and tries one unsuccessful venture after another. When he sees that he's going to loose her for lack of money, he takes a drastic step: decides to rob a bank. After pulling off the heist, he gets shot while making his get-away and dies. (I think he leaves her the money he stole but I can't quite figure that part out). It has a lovely tune that just calls out and makes you listen.
I know it's silly but I find the story so beautiful in a romantic/fatalistic/dumb kind of way. Superficially it tells of a love so strong that he would have done anything to be with her. But then again, that's the kind of reasoning that sees those small side stories in the paper "Man kills wife and 2 children when she threatened to leave". Being single at thirty-something has lead me to be very cynical (well I've always been cynical but now I'm worse off). So the thought of a love beyond reason is comforting from a distance ..
Must really get myself into a relationship ...!
(Spoiler Alert - Not sure it applies to music but there you have it) There's a particular song I've been playing in loop for some time now. It's called (no prize for guessing) 'Mariana'. Song's about a poor guy (financially) who's in love with Mariana. He asks her to give him a year to pull his life together and tries one unsuccessful venture after another. When he sees that he's going to loose her for lack of money, he takes a drastic step: decides to rob a bank. After pulling off the heist, he gets shot while making his get-away and dies. (I think he leaves her the money he stole but I can't quite figure that part out). It has a lovely tune that just calls out and makes you listen.
I know it's silly but I find the story so beautiful in a romantic/fatalistic/dumb kind of way. Superficially it tells of a love so strong that he would have done anything to be with her. But then again, that's the kind of reasoning that sees those small side stories in the paper "Man kills wife and 2 children when she threatened to leave". Being single at thirty-something has lead me to be very cynical (well I've always been cynical but now I'm worse off). So the thought of a love beyond reason is comforting from a distance ..
Must really get myself into a relationship ...!
Monday, March 5, 2012
Don't Pick!!!
Today I got a call from "Don't Pick!" I was in a meeting but couldn't hold in the chuckle. And the thing is, I don't actually remember who I saved that way. The only thing I know for sure is that it's a jamaa. I suspect it's the guy I met in a supermarket and in a moment of weakness, temporary insanity and looseness gave my number to. He begun bugging me almost immediately & as I'd unfortunately given him my main line, I had to figure out a way of avoiding his calls.I follow instructions so didn't pick.
Then there's "Avoid". This is the married man I once met while in the company of many who now feels that we should do coffee, watch plays, 'hang out' & hold hands. First, I prefer not to spend the valuable time of my early 30's looking taken. Then every minute spent with him is a minute not spent finding my own man. And what really does a married man want from a single girl other than exploring her great wit & intriguing conversation? Great though you may be, there is no benefit to my hanging out with you one-on-one.
A new entrant is "Miscellaneous Idiot". This is a guy who stood me up on some day and has since been trying to patch things up. His story went the way of the curly kit; died.
But don't blame me .. dating in Nairobi can be rather tough. There's a strange assortment of weirdos and people who just dumbfound you (like the guy who once told me 'You look like you have some cash ... I could date a woman with cash' - to give you a clue on this, the guy was just impressed that I had a job). Then there are all the cheapskates whose idea of a great first date is your cooking them dinner at your place (and perhaps hopefully thereafter giving them a 3 dimensional tour of your bed!) Then of course there are the brothers who take you to a petrol station to chew miraa and drink liquor while listening to music blasting from their Subarus (I swear I did not make that one up. Has happened to some girl pals & it just cracks me up. Seriously, they are sensible girls who were talked into a date at a petrol station .. and went!). Just cause it would be unfair not to mention them, there are those who feel like God's gift to womenfolk and let you know at every possible opportunity that you are indeed very very lucky that you have a slot of his time on that day.
I am a woman suffering.
Extra - I must end with this joke:
Whenever Jim's mistress calls him, his wife charges his phone. Why? Because he's saved her as "Battery Low" :-)
Then there's "Avoid". This is the married man I once met while in the company of many who now feels that we should do coffee, watch plays, 'hang out' & hold hands. First, I prefer not to spend the valuable time of my early 30's looking taken. Then every minute spent with him is a minute not spent finding my own man. And what really does a married man want from a single girl other than exploring her great wit & intriguing conversation? Great though you may be, there is no benefit to my hanging out with you one-on-one.
A new entrant is "Miscellaneous Idiot". This is a guy who stood me up on some day and has since been trying to patch things up. His story went the way of the curly kit; died.
But don't blame me .. dating in Nairobi can be rather tough. There's a strange assortment of weirdos and people who just dumbfound you (like the guy who once told me 'You look like you have some cash ... I could date a woman with cash' - to give you a clue on this, the guy was just impressed that I had a job). Then there are all the cheapskates whose idea of a great first date is your cooking them dinner at your place (and perhaps hopefully thereafter giving them a 3 dimensional tour of your bed!) Then of course there are the brothers who take you to a petrol station to chew miraa and drink liquor while listening to music blasting from their Subarus (I swear I did not make that one up. Has happened to some girl pals & it just cracks me up. Seriously, they are sensible girls who were talked into a date at a petrol station .. and went!). Just cause it would be unfair not to mention them, there are those who feel like God's gift to womenfolk and let you know at every possible opportunity that you are indeed very very lucky that you have a slot of his time on that day.
I am a woman suffering.
Extra - I must end with this joke:
Whenever Jim's mistress calls him, his wife charges his phone. Why? Because he's saved her as "Battery Low" :-)
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