“But why is it that you men all you want is only sex, like all the time?”
It’s two months now; that introspective question has persistently lingered in my mind, like a brain eating amoeba that won’t go away till it eats me up or until its intimation is revealed.
See there’s this friend whom I met back in the Campus days. Well it isn’t long a time ago *back in 2013* How did we meet? It was an Iphone charger, more like a cable, it was a tap on the arm and a subsequent cute smile.
I was in the Hostel study one Thursday evening deeply lost in *it had to be Programming methodology* with these big, very big headphones on. That day my brain was unusually semi-permeable and all points were slowly trickling through. You know how that last minute hustle would allow in every point read, relevant or not. It must have been a Meiko song because in a moment I had teleported to some fancy library; the like we watch in College movies , Harvard or not, I wouldn’t remember. Anyway I was deeply engrossed in that rare moment, what happened next almost gave me quite a fright.
I felt a tender touch on my left arm; on turning I was met with a smile and a gaze straight in my eyes, that smile which leaves you dumbstruck, gasping for breath and almost choking on air. I was so lost looking at the red veins in her left eye; veins that her thick, dark dreads tried but couldn’t hide, veins that delineated her probable deeds the night before, that I almost missed the chit she had slid towards my laptop keyboard.
We became friends then on, oh the times we had. From the Colbie Caillat songs, the board games, drink ups, to the darts we played in her room. She finished her three years and left, I stayed and completed my four. We would chat though, more than chat we would converse on Whatsapp off course and call sometimes. Oh we would debate, argue, sulk, flirt, sext and all those titbits that young people do.
“Hey E, I’m flying in this October.” One evening, a Telegram message fell in.
“Oh really, what are you bringing for me?”
“Guess what, just wait I’ll be there soon. I’ll do bad things to You.” in her sexiest voice over voice notes.
October came, I waited. We waited. It’s quite funny that the chats on phone will have you falsely believing that people are very close to you. But truth be told, before you take the initiative to look out for an acquaintance to either visit or dine, then you realise how near yet so far we are from our loved ones.
The demands of both our jobs always kept us apart, I/She would be in town when she/I was’t. And when we both were, silly excuses would keep us a mile a part.
Middle of the night; one cold Saturday, it had to be cold. It’s always cold at night anyway, mostly when you are alone in bed on weekends where everyone is out getting lucky or getting high. A phone notification drops in , “Hey Hun, I’m at a drink up in Bukoto. Please come pick me, I’m quite intoxicated can’t drive.”
One, night bodas are obscenely expensive. Two, it’s easier landing on a unicorn than getting one at that time at the place I reside. I remained in my briefs and vest, put on a jacket and moccasins and run like 100 metres to the northern bypass. I got a boda; I looked crazier than Denzel in my briefs, hoped on it like a ninja, the boda guy smelt like a Russian ash tray but I was in Bukoto in like five minutes.
Getting a high girl from a party is one tricky thing. Standing next to her hand in hand as she pecks this one, hugs the other, get pulled by this inebriated guy whose expectations of ‘something more’ perhaps earlier in the night haven’t been realized, is another. Sooner we were in the parking lot, looking for that white Subaru Forrester with cute rims and unique vinyls.
We didn’t even meet any Traffic guys on our way home. Subaru cars are quite fast, seats are very comfortable, add that to the impending sleep and the vodka, ‘punch’ cocktail taken, she only woke up when the engine died out at my place. I opened the car door for her just as she was throwing up a cocktail of her own, lunch earlier eaten and whatever she had downed via the party.
It’s always nice thoughtful to keep a spare tooth brush and a spare dry towel. *Boys learn this, if you’re single, better you always stock Latex, Pads, Painkillers and stuff of the kind* It always comes in handy, and anyway it’s just so convenient for your visitors and for you.
For the next 30 minutes, my friend was in the bathroom cleaning up, giggling here and there and calling me to the bathroom door just to ask me the same thing in incessant loops “Nshuti, mwana I missed you. How have you been? Haven’t I inconvenienced you?” On repeat.
She finished with the bathroom, came out and we hugged, so tight like for two minutes and confessed our longing for each other and well headed to bed. “But why is it that you men all you want is only sex, like all the time?”
What happened next is what’s been eating me up for two months now….
Musings 