Sobriety and I got divorced sometime late last week. The alimony is already killing me. But my sojourn into a constant state of drunkenness brought a couple of things into clear focus (despite the loss of my specs.) The first truth being that my uncle Jeff is right about alcohol. Alcohol is not the solution it only helps you forget the question for a while.
So it was that I woke with one humdinger of a hangover and a glaring question as to where my romantic life was headed. This question was in turn precipitated by the recent untimely demise of my only brother (RIP MKK! Viva Madrid!) and an incessant rallying call from close relations demanding progeny.
The insensitivity of their calls notwithstanding, I understood that in their own way they meant well. One old man actually offered his daughter. The offer itself was not surprising since it is not the first time this has happened to me but that her bags were packed and I was offered an opportunity to sample the goods which took me aback. The deal was further sweetened by the old mans’ declaration that he did not expect any bride price.
I politely turned the old man down and beseeched the young woman (19 years to be exact) to stop pirouetting about. Later that night there was a knock on the door and much to my surprise the young lady stood there and asked for a word. She went on to explain that she was not being forced into anything and that if anything my refusal was a bit of an insult. She was educated and spoke English, Swahili and mother-tongue. She also pointed out that there were twins in her family tree and her fertility credentials were well documented by the number of children her sister’s had spawned for their respective husbands.
It was the end of a long day for me and I was getting a little agitated by the clear headed manner this child was talking about a lifetime commitment. The temptation to give in was at that moment quite strong if for no other reason to get everyone off my procreation responsibility. I calmly explained to her that I was not ready for the entire venture and that I found her a suitable choice and one that surpassed all my expectations but the time was not right.
As I narrated this story to my friends back in the city I got quite a number of mixed reactions. Drama fell short of hitting me on the head , Eric walked off spluttering in disgusting mumbling what I cold only assume were Luhya profanities. Shaq simply sipped his GK and gave me the finger. Mathew to whom I narrated the story a few days later in a dingy watering hole in Kajiado offered to finance my trip back to the coast to rectify my blunder.
I put down quite a lot of things to the folly of youth (as N.M has pointed out severally) but this is not one of them. According to my pals it was just plain dumb. No excuses. What left me befuddled was that the consensus even amongst my pals is that it was time to “settle down”. I was quickly turning into the other guy.
The guy who shuts up when the topic turns to diapers, colic, formula and burping (not the beer belch! The on-the-shoulder-back-patting kind). I was at the time thinking that I was the senior bachelor in our motley crew of marauders. “Hata wa nje Aleki?” I was grilled endlessly. My mother was of absolutely no help at this time. Whenever I called to inform her of some new arrival from a cousin in the city or a friend of a fiend she knows the same question was always asked “wako anakuja lini?”
I discovered that there is another classification of “The other guy”. This is the chap who is always hanging around with women whom he is not dating or sleeping with. The strange thing is that this guy is straight. He is the shoulder to lean on when these women beak up with the boyfriend, always has a handy word of advice from the ‘male perspective’ like he knows what that means. He can spot a “player” a mile away, seemingly has no girlfriend and is constantly free to go shoe shopping, or chaperone a date, he has the numbers of male strippers should the need arise. He is willing to service the cars, change tires etc .In short he is the perfect boyfriend and your worst enemy!
On the dating scene this is a dangerous guy. When getting into a thing with a new girl identify this chap as quickly as you can. He is the resident vetting authority. The only thing I know about this guy for sure is not the scope of his influence (I will be damned if some limp d***ck Motherfucker will come between me and horizontal bliss) but that he is basically a sponger.
He is pretty smart in that way. The reason he hangs around these women is that there is always some poor bugger buying drinks anyway! He is just part of the bill. Being seen with a bevy of beauties is also a good way to score points and these girlfriends are always up to setting you up to a pal who would be just “perfect” for you! The more I thought about it the more I got to appreciate this guy for his prowess.
I have always maintained that there are two thins in life that will always be true and applicable in my life. The first is that there is no such thing as free lunch; Economics 101. There is always a price to be paid. The second is that it is impossible for a man and a woman to have a platonic relationship. What others call a platonic relationship I consider to be a refusal by the woman to bed the man. The man is more often than not thinking of how to bring up the topic.
The other guy has his cake and eats it too! In all probability he has bedded most of the women at the table as a “favor” during lean times. Though other men consider him to be languishing somewhere between crustaceans and a roach on the food chain this other guy has it all figured out.