3:00pm
I had left the ignition key in the car. The car engine was running. I was in the loo at Dalamere taking a leak.
3:03pm
I found the car still standing at the gas station the way it was when i left it, only now it was fueled up. That's the thing with working people. They fuel the car to the brim. I never fuel the car i drive to the brim, it senseless to me to spend all that money and having nothing to show for it but a stick that now points up. (I mean the fuel gauge) But it was her car. So who cared if the car was so full it was throwing up fuel.
3:05pm
Back on the road, I had one more hour to go. If I could drive faster, I could actually slice that one hour drive by almost half. I knew that for sure,
I needed to get back home on time. There was something waiting for me, oh heavens was I eager for it! The moments I tried to slice the hour left of Tarmac, Pressed the accelerator a bit faster, the passenger I had on the co-driver's seat would scream. Scream words that is. My mother is polite, she handles everything with utmost grace, she just doesn't scream. At least most times. I tried to tell her we had as many airbags as a Maybach, On the seats, On the shoulders, on the doors. You know cars have shoulders by the way, and their shoulders have airbags. Does yours have airbags? Shoulders I mean. She wasn't convinced. You can trust mothers to be economic. We weren't going to waste airbags. So we let lorries overtake us. But just before you think she is not cool. When I mentioned a Maybach, she mentioned a Rolls Roys. I almost fainted right there on the steering.
4:00pm
We got home, and when I say home, I mean town, and when I say town,I mean shops. Women love shopping, no matter their age. I left her shopping. She would find her way home. Her other half was in town anyways. Then I could drive with an aim to use the airbags. I flew. Short distance. But I flew.
4:15pm
"open your boot, it's procedure"
"really?"
"what do you think I am carrying to a rugby game, guns?"
I was trying to be funny.
"no, we don't care about that. It's drinks we are searching for..."
And she was not trying to be funny. Did I mention she was not trying to be funny? Such a waste of our police force. I got out of the car escorted the police woman to ransack my bags. That is democracy for you, people interfering with your privacy as you watch! My boots lay there covered in mud, And a few suitcases. Not guns! No booze! Though I wished it was tidier. But the car demanded respect, so I wasn't embarrassed for it or for me.
"I was traveling...for heavens sake"
But in her head I could still feel her judging me.
4:20pm
So there I was driving in. Once long ago, I had promised myself never to attend such events alone, It can be painfully boring, and absolutely lonely. Here I was, In the car alone. Here I was a few years after, Alone.
I packed next to a two door Audi, Black and sleek, I felt closer to it than any things else, everyone around was a stranger. All the cars around were also strangers, But the Audi wasnt a stranger, I had parked next to it many times before, mostly during lunch at the Club. A month ago, for almost a week, I had passed it on the road at a T-junction heading to court, for a whole continuous seven days, a week. Everyday. If you were me, You would park next to it.
In that place you have so many people around, so many people who know you, it is still amazing how you still feel so lonelier than you feel if you were by yourself somewhere else. I stayed in the car and rang the three or for people who had invited me. They weren't around. Some had left, probably got tired of pretending to watch the game, some came the day before. I was going to be alone. I knew that for sure. Looking out of the window I saw people genuinely happy. Most of them were. Actually all of them,
4:40pm
I stopped listening to songs alone in the car. I wasn't going to be a freak like that. Seated alone in a car at a rugby field parking lot. The car wasn't fully tinted. People could see me! People were seeing me! I walked out.
I started walking away from the car, away from the black Audi I felt so comfortable close to, away from the open door cars with loud music,
and the girls in slutty net outfits.
I was passing people waving silently at them, girls I had shagged, even a girl who had refused to sex me cause she was older, Or something to that effect.
She hadn't grown prettier. But all of them were with people, I felt small walking in such a large field, It normally feels like that when you are walking with no aim, I wasn't going to watch the game, I have never got the logistics of rugby anyways. Even keeping score. I just know muscled guys with funny shorts fall with their ball. And hurt their balls most times.
I tried to walk slower cause I didn't know my destination, but then walking slower would mean I walk alone in that large field which was thoroughly uncomfortable. I am not a witch. I don't walk alone around places where everyone is in groups.
I felt like I had been walking for an hour. I was away from anything friendly. I could see the friendly Audi that I had parked next to my car far away from where I was.
Just 4:41pm
"hi"
"howdy"
The hi sounded sincere because it screamed glad to see you! and Oh phew at least! Someone to get me out of this boring misery. Yes, I got all that from hi. But there was also that fact he jumped eagerly out of the circle he was with to greet me. I stretched my hand, We exchanged a firm weird hand shake.
"what's up man, it been long?"
He was still a stranger,
Until,
4:42pm when,
"how did squash go that day?"
He became instantly familiar, a friend of a friend whose friend I play squash with.
"I won"
A half truth.
"so who are you with?"
What did he mean who was I with. I had come to 'watch' the game!
The conversation he had with me for the next two minutes lay strongly on the assumptions I had women in the car, many women that is; that I had just been heading to the washroom or something, and would be heading back to the parking soon. He didn't know my car was parked empty. And the only woman there was the Audi, I considered the Audi a woman cause my car looked more many.
First of all the Audi was two doored. Mine was five, it was larger than a sedan, so it matched with the coupe, In engine power and in youth. They were a young couple. Ask the number plates if you don't believe me. That's all I had in the parking lot. But who was I to tell these fella that, at the time it was okay for him to be my friend for whatever reasons, I couldn't stand alone waving to people I know; Whispering look at that lonely witch.
I was slightly offended by the fact that he assumed I must have had left, like a dozen of women at the car park, with music shouting out of the car and perhaps a camera flashing lights at those invisible bent-over-women who in his mind must have been trying not to spill any alcohol on the seats. I guess your reputation always proceeds you.
We engaged in small talk. He is quite an interesting chap. He has read my blog so that also helped to make him interesting. I pretended I was heading to the loo, he pretended he was heading to the bar, so we headed there together. The beer in his hand was almost full, he didn't need another. But you know guys don't state the obvious.
Now I could wave at people louder, I even tapped a couple of hot girls I used to know and said hi; tapped on the shoulder, I am not filthy in public.
We met a perfectly girl, arrogant but rightfully arrogant cause she could back it up. She was younger than me and even more unfortunately she was days taller than me. I immediately wished I wasn't in flat sandals. I should have tip toed. But that would have been plainly silly. She was an acquaintance. She was standing in a circle with other girls. The other girls didn't notice me cause they were laughing together. She was laughing alone, alone cause her laughter was fake unlike the rest. You do not notice people as easily when you are laughing or when talking to your friends.
She is endowed with confidence that girl. She touched my person, She touched my button-down sweater. Flipped it to display the horse on my shirt.
"that shirt is fake, Marco polo designs smaller horses"
She said.
Who is Marco Polo? I thought it is Raulph Lauren.
"i like fake things...haha"
I lied. I was completely caught by that comment off guard.
I laughed about it. And before we both wished she would say a goodbye. Drug us out of that awful conversation.
"so wearing slippers is your thing?"
I walked away from her like she was a disease. Toxic to my moods. I looked at my sandals, looked at his slippers.I was shocked. I hadn't seen them before. But his black leather jacket would have been a range rover if it was a car. He looked sharp. I was in sandals cause my boots had just seen a party where there were boats and mud. He just seemed not to care. But why bother explaining that to that stupid little girl who has a problem with my horse. She hadn't come there to play sports. She was there to social climb. That was her sport. I wish she was at least good at it.
In fact its our grand fathers who wore shirts with tiny horses on them. We wear bigger ones ourselves. We are young. And no we aren't fake. How could bigger horses be fake? Even if they were fake, everyone likes big things. I like big booties. Bigger tellys aren't fake. They are still Sony. Wake up girl. Who doesn't want a bigger..., you don't want a bigger...to ride?
He headed to the bar. I headed to the loo.
While we headed to the car he scratched his head confused. I could tell it. His surprise. I had tricked him there were no women.
It was to late to turn back, conversation was good. The guy has seen the world. He has seen Kenya. There are parts of Kenya that are like Somali. War to the end. He has been surrounded by successful people. So he came of as mighty ambitious. I guess that's what you get from working for NGOs. He sat on the co-driver's, I sat on the driver's. He mentioned the Audi next looked sweet too.
We decided it was in order to move close to the pitch. Then we could watch the game better, from inside the car. He liked coldplay. Enjoyed them. He definitely had good taste in music. I shamelessly drove into a crowd of spectators, they got off the way obviously. I then stopped and some of them looked at me angrily. Is he seriously going to pack there? Where we were standing. Yes, I was seriously parked there and I was staying there. I was going to watch the game from there.
"so these guys contract with you?"
"Yeah I work part time for the car hire company,"
"but my full time job involves going into disaster zones"
I imagined the camels I used to read about in history class, crossing the desserts. Being ridden by violent men. Then I imagined the convoy of land cruisers they travelled with. Always an armed police land rover tailing them, escorting them. The bandits have a network in those zones. They are pirates, not like pirates of the caribean. Real pirates. They kill and rob.
"if you travel un armed news will travel, and you will be attacked, robbed and killed"
Infact there is a story about some father, He was taking food to a children's home, And he was caught by one of those bandits, I imagined the conversation went like this;
"get out'a the car mon, get out get out,
"...will shoot you. Get'a out"
"it's alright mate, no one has to get hurt"
"so you are a father, you think you better than us?"
"no am just going back to my missionary school"
"that's where I am taking these bags of maize"
"good, carry one bag and walk on, I will keep the car"
And he let the priest walk infront of the car. He drove behind him slowly pointing a gun at him. Poor thing, he wasn't accustomed to carry such heavy language. He fell quite a number of times. He dragged himself until he started crawling.
"when you tired, you tell me, ey?"
And he would laugh waving the gun at him. That's what pyschos do. They have an evil loud laughter. Ask the cartoons bad character, they will show you it! Haha haha haa haa!
"I can't make it, I am tired"
"what did you say..."
"I am tired, I can't make it"
Tush! And as he dropped down bleeding from his back. He said "God bless you" and died.
After that the thug drove over him, laughing perhaps. The strong dessert winds and sand buried him. He was buried by the heavens.
"The man is cursed now. His whole clan is. His children are deformed. They can't stand. It's like they are kneeling all the time. If you look at them. Their bodies are shaped as if they are begging for their lives. Even their hands. The man is cursed."
We were still in the car. He sounded composed, believable. Even when he talked about Peace Keeping NGOs funding wars so that they can stay in business, his voice was calm, confident and collected. But then that was his what bottle? Six? Fifth?
It was already 8:00pm. I couldn't believe it, I had lost track of time! He dropped the empty brown bottle of beer out of the window. We weren't going to return it back to the bar.
9:00pm
He texted me he had gotten back home safe.
9:01pm
I lie on my bed thinking. I would love to go to war zone places. They offer such good stories. Adventure. Would I almost throw my life into a den of lions just for a good story?or my attending a rugby game is a good story enough?
9:03pm
I answered that question.
9:04pm
My day ended.
Here is the other post I promised;
"When Love Was Pure Adventure And Not Pricey Coffee"
Check it up.
