My problems got cray the moment you left me last week. There’s at least 3 illicit women who have been trying to impersonate you… I think!
You see, the moment you left me, I lost all hope of ever writing or even calling you…. then comes 3 of you at once…!!
If this was really you… then I want to challenge you… tell me! Where did we first make love? Answer me please…
Huh….are you still there?
How are you doing luv?
These words are being typed from a Nokia Lumia handset. I am seated on an old rickety can for a matatu, plus the window is missing where I am seated. This is to say that I am still waiting for a random thief to snatch it from my hands….. and my typing will end there!!
But don’t be freaked…. getting this post done is way important than a thief snatching this phone. Please get me right.
Now see…. I am chucking out of the matatu before heading straight to the shoe-shiner’s booth! Right opposite this shoe-shiner lies an Mpesa shop, and the lady attendant looks exactly as you!!
So I can sit while the shoe shiner (or is it a cobbler) does his work and I ogle the Mpesa damsel’s ass when she turns around!
I know my statement sounds rude… gore and even illegal!! But there’s no other way of putting my wondering heart at peace…
By the way, I was just wondering… could we talk about my experience at a shoe-shiner’s booth? … Say Yes… and I’ll write a wonderful story on that. And if you say No…I will still write anyway!!
I have employed two shoe shiners to do my leather shoes everyday. One is located in my estate and another one is strategically placed at kencom bus stage… that busy place between Sabina Joy and Pauls Cookieman. You know this place? If you do, keep reading. But if you don’t, I suggest you stop reading and go back to doing what you were doing before!! Hehe….no need to stop reading anyway… I can’t see you!
My story is set at this one shoe shiner located between SJ and the cookie shop…
PS: (I am still on the move… I told you earlier! Now I am seated at Java, the one along Mama Ngina street, waiting for a friend. His name is Mambo… I will tell you about this man some day. Okay, I have a table of my own, then another couple unceremoniously joins me! This is utter rudeness… If this waitress was not yellow and padded, I would be hanging on her neck by now)
I am very selective when it comes to shoe shiners. I choose cripple shoe shiners who seat next to newspaper vendors!
Do you know why I love them that much? They don’t spend every single hour of the day shining customer’s shoes.. Time spent not shining shoes is quality time spent reading newspapers!
(Another quality feature: They are crippled, so they don’t move a lot…. they shine, bark with ”wee wee….conversation and read newspapers…)
P.S I am now moving away from this awful table of fat couples talking about when is the right time to meet each others’ parents.
Let me create a scene…
I am seated on a hard metal stool, before a man who has a discoloured piece of mattress on his right hand side and a bottle of neutral shoe cream on the left side.
He has the skill of a potter… he shines my shoe like a pro. See the layers of shoe police and cream on top of my leather shoes…. (my mother tongue does not allow me to pronounce shhh…, so I accidentally say sss instead of shh..)
Then something peculiar happens… the shoe shiner grasps his crutches… springs on his functional leg and flees away from the scene!
This is very confusing ladies and gentlemen!
Another woman, who is selling sweets and biscuits next to him, who is also crippled does the same. Is this a magic or ritual of some sort??
At this point, I realize that am gagged… seeing that my shoes are left with white cream all over!!
A heavy pat on my left shoulder…
The hand was so heavy and wrinkled… I saw it with the corner of my eyes before turning around to see who those hands belonged to.
The technique was uncouth, uncultured and naughty. The hand was extremely dirty & very illegal!!
When I turned around in disbelief, I saw a tall heavily built man in a dirty lab coat that was once white in colour. This was as a result of sin and hard labour…. you know the one talked about in the bible?
He had a stone-face, also wrinkled like his own hands…
”Kuja hapa kijana… munasaidia hawa kufanya biashara haramu, sivyo? he rumbled disgustingly.
This man was dirty, and his hair was unkempt, plus his shoe laces were undone. In my mind, his opinion or ideas didn’t matter…. you don’t take dirty men serious!!…. do you?
So I picked up the tattered and discolored mattress and wiped off the cream on my shoes… then got up from where I was seated.
This man was tall and huge….this, is humongous, ladies and gentlemen!
”Ingina ndani ya gari twende….”, he continued….
At this point, I noticed an old City Council Pickup right behind him. It was grey in colour, old and a pain to the eye!
He handcuffed me at the blink of an eye… then showed me the way into this old vehicle, which looked like it was going to fall apart any minute!
There were also 14 skimpily dressed women inside the back cabin, with the word ”whore” written on their faces. There was barely any space to fit in, so I had to squeeze into them! The environment was heavily intoxicated with ammonia smell from urine!
Two women offered me some space.. to sit on their laps… They had very tight mini skirts on, which had rolled all the way up their thighs… so I was only sitting on yellow flesh!
Please be informed that all the disabled traders are nowhere to be seen!
The tall dirty man was now throwing the traders’ tools into a black polythene bag. Another dirty colleague was also doing the same to the missing cripple woman who was selling sweets and biscuits on the other side. They tied them on the roof of this old vehicle!
The next stop was at City hall… I paid 500 bob. I even sponsored the two whores who offered me space on top of their laps, 500 bob each! I was free…..