I never thought I’d write about this incident in my blog but who cares!
A couple of years ago I had a major crush on a chic in my class. She was one gorgeous thang, absolutely stunning, flawless from head to toe. The only problem is that she never did smile. Ever. She oozed coldness every single day of the week. But the one day that she did smile, to me it was as if the sun had come out on a cloudy winter’s day and warmed me to the bone. I know that sounds lame but that’s exactly how I felt at the time. She never spoke to anyone either. She had a very intimidating “sura ya kazi” expression on her face 24/7. She sat by herself during lectures and cut the image of a very focused chic.
A pal of mine knew her and obviously I asked him for the d-low on her. The guy turned to me and said
that woman? Forget! She’s the coldest, rudest and most arrogant bitch you will ever meet in your life!
But I was up for a challenge, coz at the time I was part of this clique that always put me down for one reason or the other, so I had to do something to prove myself, and I thought that I’d score some points by winning the heart of this emotionless chic who every guy in the clique secretly wished.
Encouraged by a pal of mine (who actually put the silly idea in my mind in the first place-let’s call him TM) I decided to follow her around campus and know her kawaida routine with a view to arranging for one or three coincidental meetings. In case you’re thinking to yourself “er…please define stalking” Yes I admit! I stalked her! But I prefer to call it “strategical surveillance.” The idea wasn’t particularly bright coz right now I can’t help laughing at myself for the shit I did. We called it “Operation SMP”, SMP being an acronym for Sexy Ms. Pedestal. That name came from the fact that TM thought that I’d placed her on a pedestal so high that I’d have licked the soles of her feet had she asked me to. Well it was somewhat true, I adored her almost to the point of obsession.
Anyway I got to know what she does and where she goes in between lectures. Her routine on Wednesdays was as follows:
0830hrs: attend statistics tutorial session
0930hrs: emerge from venue, walk to cafeteria
0935hrs: purchase chelsea bun and coffee
0950hrs: walk to computer lab to do whatever it is that people do on the internet
1035hrs: leave computer lab and walk to venue of next lecture.
So the next Wednesday, after having a good shave and pulling out one of those Saturday night special shirts (the shirt was orange, but it was South Pole and it cost me a fortune!) and splashing on some aftershave and cologne, I proceeded to lay an ambush on SMP with TM watching from close by. I picked a bench that lay along SMP’s usual route from the cafeteria to the computer labs.
I checked my watch, 0938hrs. Any time now. Ok here she comes. Oh shit, what am I going to say? My mind went totally blank as the gap between us closed with every successive step that she took. Something told me to ask her the time. There have been dumber ways to strike up a conversation but I guess this will do. But I already have a watch! So I hurriedly took it off and shoved it into my pocket. Haiya, here goes nothing.
Archer: Er… excuse me?
SMP: (Turns slowly in my direction in a scene reminiscent of a cartoon episode where you accidentally woke up Brutus the neighbour’s Doberman) WHAT??!
Archer: I was wondering if….
SMP: If WHAAAAAT?!
Archer: If you could…
SMP: If I could WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!
SMP: I don’t have all day! What do you want?
Archer: (thinking to myself “waaa! huku kumeumana!) I think you’re probably having a bad day. I didn’t mean to disturb you.
SMP: Well you did!!
And with that she clicked loudly and walked on.
Now picture the sight of this guy reduced to the size of a little pebble on the side of the dusty path with TM laughing his head off! Actually he’s never stopped making fun of me over that incident two years down the line.
Fast forward to May 2006. It’s a Friday night, I’m at a café having a few beers with some friends. Guess who walks in with her pals and occupies the table right next to ours. It’s SMP! Well I hadn’t seen her in quite a while. Almost a year actually. And things have changed. She’s fat! Gone are the curvy hips that would glue many a guy’s eyes with every swing and sway. Now they’ve been replaced with Michelins so thick you’d think she stuck floaters to herself. To make matters worse she had an un-coordinated outfit with so many colours that would make Mueni frown in envy. On the plus side, she was still very pretty with the make up perfectly bringing out every element of her beauty.
Coincidentally I was with TM that night and when he spotted her, he instantly burst into laughter and despite my pleas for him to shut up, he proceeded to tell the story of my failed attempt to woo SMP two years ago, much to my embarrassment. Thanks man, you’re a true pal.
Back to SMP, she pulled out a cigarette from her handbag and searched around for a lighter. There was none at her table, so she went over to the counter to ask the barman for one. TM throws me a lighter and goes like “si you go redeem yourself?” I figured that I had nothing more to lose since my ego had been dented severely so I might as well take up the challenge.
I walked over to SMP and offered to light up her cigarette. She lit up and took a deep puff. She says
“I remember your face. I think we’ve met somewhere before?”
to which I replied
“Our paths may have crossed at some time.”
She was craving for a slice of black forest so I took that as a cue to make myself comfy on the stool next to hers, and I offered to buy her the cake. It’s not hard to see where the 20 kilos came from!
We had a very long chat over a couple of flaming lamborghinis and a few shots of tequila and we found ourselves flirting, arms gently caressing each other, to the point where SMP confessed that she hadn’t had some in a while, and seeing that the night was coming to an end, she suggested that we should at least kill it on a high note! A proposition to which I agreed very fast. She asked me if my place was cool since her room-mate was asleep and I agreed. So we finished off our drinks and left the café together under looks of jealousy and approval from TM and company.
We took a cab back to my apartment and things quickly got really heavy. We made out furiously and with an urgency second to none. Just at the point where she was begging for it, I thought to myself
“Aww come on man, you’re such a loser! Is a shag that you’ve wished for over two years really worth it? I think not!”
So I got out of bed and told her
“I don’t think I’m up for this right now. I’m just not feeling you at all. Please get your stuff and leave. Now!”
The expression on her face was priceless! I bet she was thinking
Have that! A taste of your own medicine! Now that you’ve become fat and undesirable is when you know how to be nice to people?
That night I slept feeling quite content with myself for redeeming my pride although another part of my anatomy would gladly have smacked me senseless if it could! Sorry son, I know you don’t discriminate but I’ve never let you down in the past, have I?