“Itakuwa fair ukiparticipate, vile nimejitolea ungejua ungeappreciate, lighting intimate, oneplus 68…” we all slur along to the club banger… the banger that Kyle was going to use as reference later on while donning (hopefully) his Bangbros boots! If you know you know.
Showing up at a club that’s Pronto opposite what used to be Club Gravity till recently was not on any of our plans. But the way Nairobi weather got people cuddling in cabs and huddling in PSV queues got us thinking hugging a brown bottle was a wiser choice. Wrong move.
Don’t get us wrong. We barely make those on the dance floor 6 or 7 shots later. But being entirely high throughout is a luxury we can ill afford so those wrong moves are made when sober. Sigh.
“Hapo ulipo kamata nafeel so sweet…” the overhead treble speakers chime as Kyle makes faces, with his date clinging onto him tighter than the black bodycon on her body. He is having the time of his life. And the next maybe.
See, this brother is the reason night clubs invest so much in darkness. Okay, dimly lit darkness. Stuff he does on that dance floor and yonder makes the crew schmuck (adjusts collar) grow angel wings; you know, feel holier than thou.
Today, just like any other day, he’s with his all-time yellow-yellow mami whose got this compact rear, short hair and the face of a baby. Not that it matters, but no one understands how a brother managed to corrupt so innocent a soul (at least from what anyone can see) into such a Medusa; one with short impeccable hair.
A quick glance at the wide screens at the corner, I spot Aggy in her signature stripped jumpsuit pull the final Odi move as the video fades away paving way for another. Kwangwaru!
This Lady Aggy
But let’s talk about Aggy, even if for a second. Does any of you ever look at a human and wonder how on earth they inhale the same oxygen you do because they ooze an aura of nonchalance that’s leagues beyond human confines? How that girl moves in that video is well… story for another day.
Back to Kyle
Slumping into my seat, I look their way in sync with the “Nipe vya kitandani, nipe mpaka kwenye kiti…” line; just in time to spot Medusa slowly gyrating on a brother like her life depended on it, with her right hand meticulously massaging his cheek. Only a lady with a behind that sizable will give you a boner courtesy of her bum while standing and facing away! How they do it is utter magic! Lucky bugger. I am not complaining though.
“Boss, kuna mtu hapa?” a random fella with another yellow-yellow dada in tow asks, interrupting my sewer of thoughts. Sorry, I mean trail of thoughts. A dirty trail.
“Eeh. Kuna wasee.” I reply almost rudely pointing at the table laden with bottles containing alcohol levels higher than all morals in the club combined!
“Nani hao?” he carries on.
Agitated, I point their way with my lips like the extra African I am! He is really annoying this one. I can feel my morals coming back to replace my patience. But Kyle won’t take none of that, and as if on cue, I spot his sneaky arm trying to “teleza kama nyoka pangoni”.
The annoying inquisitive bugger finally walks way, blocking my view in the process. I curse under my inebriated breath knowing I have missed a second or two of the freak show those two idiots were about to offer.
And just as I had expected, his government arm is back on her hips; morals still lingering around. “Unataka kupiga deki, wima umesimama…” fades out the song as a disgruntled brother gets pulled by his butt yielding counterpart to our table.
This time round, they change sitting positions and settle down facing each other. I know what that means. It’s going down for real, head and hands. My money is on hands first.
So I excuse myself to hit the gents and Kyle acknowledges the astute move like the shrewd bloke he is and makes a few adjustments before I get back. Third wheeling can be such a pain at times!
64 seconds later
I get back to my seat after what I considered enough time for the debauched duo to get into position for their second round of whatever two woozy mutually consenting adults under the heavy influence of an alcohol induced hormone charge do in a near darkness environment; in the presence of their friend who ran out of fucks to give about a decade ago. And true to my expectations, seats have been pulled tables pushed and drink pooled on my edge of the table to block my view! Sly bastards!
My seat feels weirdly cold as my lone bony behind sinks into it; probably implying I should get me someone to help me discard my scruples very once in a while. But it’s not about me today. It is about these two lust birds I willingly got entangled with.
What bothers me?
There’s commotion under the table but that doesn’t bother me as long as Medusa’s head is within my sight. I am cocksure pardon the pun hands will not be on this table for long, and that doesn’t bother me too.
What bothers me is the fact that they’ve left for the washrooms and the bouncer has followed them. They better not get busted before the nut!