Freddie, Viagra and Valentine Day drama

WARNING: THIS POST MIGHT CONTAIN INAPPROPRIATE TOILET REFERENCES AND SEXUAL SLURS. READER DISCRETION ADVISED. OTHERWISE, NOTHING IS EVER TOO SERIOUS IN LIFE
There are embarrassing emergencies. Like being so hard pressed and you don’t have a tissue paper. I have enough anecdotes that involve guys taking their socks or using their handkerchiefs. In extreme situations have had to use bank notes. Another scenario is when you sneeze so hard and the sputum and mucus is all over your face and you don’t have a handkerchief. Or like Freddie’s story I am about to narrate, you swallow Viagra and then something comes in between and she has to leave, and you are already randy and on fire.

Freddie, as the readers of this blog already know is a step cousin of mine who loves women and money. A year younger than me, he skipped college and took to business and he should be way into his second million or hours away from it. Freddie likes sex. I can certifiably say that he is an addict. All his vibe starts and ends with his bedroom escapades. Personally, I believe he lacks any intellectual grit to sustain any modest conversation and has a habit of dismissing my friends as opinionated when he cannot participate in a conversation.

Freddie is short, no bigger than 5’6 and a little heavy. But whatever he lacks in height and intellect he makes up for it by dressing expensively, tastefully and nicely. He also spends on women, which really does it for him. He has the charm of 1,000 men. In fact, his charm can light up Uhuru Highway from The Haille Selassie Round-about to Museum Hill. I remember once he visited me in campus and there was no power and we wanted to boil some eggs. He turned on his charm and within a minute, the eggs were ready. OK. Kidding. That is a lame joke.

The first thing Freddie does when he comes across a woman he fancies is establish what rocks her world. If she is an easy lay, his charm is enough, plus may be money and alcohol. If she is the difficult type, Freddie is the master of feigning seriousness and can promise commitment and even marriage to get laid. He has a simple philosophy, ‘GET LAID FIRST’. He once told me that, not that she will kill you if she discovers that you are a jerk. Besides, women are stronger and can handle anything.

With his philosophy, he has laid very unlikely candidates: A very insecure daughter of cabinet minister. That is not the news. But he did it in a lodging in no shadier place than along Accra Road. He has also surprised me by taking to bed a young opinionated lecturer from a private university. Back in campus, anytime he showed up, he posed as my cousin from Moi University and he did slice me many a chick I fancied. Freddie. No woman is impossible to him, at least as far as I am convinced. Well, Valentine day proved otherwise and taught me for umpteen time that, assumption in deed is the mother of all blunders…

Valentine Day: Lonely and Comfortable
Few people had a better Valentine Day plan than me. I had re-watched the Godfather Trilogy the whole night and slept on the Valentine Tuesday at about 8.17 am. My intention was to sleep until 1.03pm, wake up go to the office and use the office internet to Facebook, Tweet and read other blogs for 5 hours and 49 minutes, meet any friend we do tea and I go back home to finish my Nelson DeMille Novel. How is that for single chap?

But messages kept coming wishing me a Happy Valentine. It took me so long to discover that I should have switched the damn phone, since they were coming at an interval of every 27 minutes. And the messages were coming from very unlikely sources. There were three from my exes. One had tone of ‘may you die of loneliness this Valentine’. The second one had an indifferent mood. And the third one had a big cloud of malevolence…what is it with Exes?

Well the next set of three messages came from women I have hit on but never quite had my way. There was a silent mockery in them and I really don’t know what they want from me…I wished one to choke over the dinner she was  going to be bought that evening. Another one to step on a banana peel and fall down embarrassingly as her red dress goes hip-high for all to see her red lingerie. And the last one I prayed that she catches her man with a woman who is not as beautiful as she is…

There were more from my sister and other close friends who were doing their dutiful obligation of sending seasonal greetings. I did sleep, nonetheless and woke up late and stepped into town. There were tents all over town selling flowers and cards to the love birds. I went into the office just but to misuse the internet and kill off the lazy silly Tuesday meant for people who need reminders that they are in love. And for  men and women who just started dating it was a reason to hang out, the man hoping that she will indulge in too much wine and give it up on the that night. Equally hoping it is not that day of the month.

At exactly 7.43, I stepped out of the office and to go for my tea but all my friends were having their dates and were in the fancy places of Nairobi. It was time for me to catch a Jav and head home…By the way, are peeps from Eastlands allowed to call Matatus Javs? Just asking…

I was walking past the Mboya Statue, lost in my thoughts when the phone vibrated violently in pocket and I was about to receive it but it was a strange number. I had to figure out whether it is anyone I owe money and I have not been picking their calls trying to trap me…I received it anyway…

“Gesiora, Uko wapi?” It was the unmistakable regulated tenor of Freddie that I find irritating but women find sexy. At least five have whispered to me as much.

OK, something brief about my name…It is Gisiora. Just that.Gi-Si-O-Ra. But even my clansmen don’t get it right. It is place specific and not a common Gusii name. But I hate it when someone violates its pronunciation, especially from my community, but I cannot blame them, least of all Freddie whose presence in Nairobi  guarantees beer and a few thousands for hosting him and many of his young outrageously beautiful young lasses with the worst imaginable behavior in Nairobi.

So Freddie informs in mother tongue that he has two women and he wanted me to avail myself and keep the other one busy as he tries to convince the other one that getting laid is the best recommendation of concluding the Valentine business. He further informed me that the other one was lonely and if I could get my Swahili proper, I could have my way…Nothing motivates a man like those six words… “Kaa utaeka Kiswahili yako poa…utatoboa? Well, I was not particularly randy, but I could do with talking to a woman…Just talking.

They were in Nandos, a few strides back and I made a quick U-Turn. I HATE MY AVAILABILITY. It makes me so vulnerable, but it was an opportunity to freeload. I like abusing Freddie’s generosity. Since he keeps abusing me that by the time, I make my first million, (if I will ever), he would be in his first billion and has a specific contempt for college education.

I walked in Nandos, not as the most broke person in Nairobi but someone who owns the place. True to his standards, he was in the company two very beautiful women and his catch was the lesser beautiful for the night, but desirably petite and a fetching smile that reminded of women from a certain place I have been to in Europe.
Freddie did the introduction  like a boss, he was, and I felt that even with my height, decent dressing, I was not exactly invited. I settled and cracked a joke, and none laughed. For Freddie, it was too intellectual a joke but for the girls, I was yet to figure out. One was Sheila and the other Gertrude. You know your parent hates you when they give a name like Alex, Peter, Boniface, Gertrude and Paul. Gertrude. I tried to squeeze humour out of that but it came out flat. Freddie placed an order for me and left me to my own devices with Gertrude.

Gertrude is possibly 22. A little heavy or fat if you like it in a crude way but an absolute beauty. She had the skin colour of pea-nut butter. Natural, flawless and void of any make-up. Save for the weave, she had a consciousness that with her beauty, she could get away with that weave, hideous or not…Some random desire to peck, actually bite her cheek came to me but I had to keep it to myself. Her boobs stood erect, defying gravity and the cleavage could give even  the Pope a boner. Something about her lips… She was eating a hotdog and some cocktail juice, what an odd, combination?

Sheila was savouring her pizza as were hundred other girls in the house with men who were unhappy, probably because they had been ambushed to buy. I hate pizza…Pizza is culinary fraud at best. I believe no African should find it tasty. I normally have this ignorant belief that women who insist on Pizza have 90% chance of being false screamers in bed. That is just me…

I tried to make easy conversation with Gertrude but she was impenetrable. May be she wanted me to sit there and admire her beauty… I tried everything…Flattery, I could not get through. I tried humour and my humour is above average, I could not get through. I tried intellect and I was frustrated.

She only had monosyllabic answers. I was beginning to hate her. Except that she was biting her hotdog with an expertise that was not common at the dinner table. I actually liked it. It was a sure sign that it is not only hotdogs she bites or swallows that way.

In the other table I could see that Freddie was unusually jittery, a sure sign that all was not well. It was increasingly becoming a long evening. What can you do to appease a pissed of lady…For a man, you can start some talk on football or sex and you are good to go. For a woman, you can’t really tell, wassup! It could be her periods, her boyfriend, family or just pissed off for the sake of being pissed off. Or I was just too ugly she could not stand my face. I decided to bore her anyway with talk about parliament, The Hague and war on al-Shabab, I really wanted her to yawn…something about her mouth. But I hardly succeeded.

I saw Freddie clap his hands in despair…A sure sign that a Kisii man is irritated. He curtly told me that we leave the place. As we walked down, nobody was talking to each other and Freddie was a little sulky and not at his charming best. He dismissed the two lasses rather badly. And yeah, Gertrude had that perfect body and a good ass to go with it…I wish I could score even a single mark on her, but I am sure she has even forgotten if she has ever met a princely looking man like me…Kidding1

After they had gone without even a good night, Freddie turned to me and said without warning in mother tongue that he needed sex…He put it as crudely as possible to explain the urgency.

I asked him, what was wrong…and without any preamble, he told me that he had taken some Vitality drug(read Viagra) that works within an hour and he was hoping that Sheila was going to give it up…But she had adamantly refused. Freddie was on fire…it was going to be a long evening for Freddie because it was only on a Tuesday…

To be continued…

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5 thoughts on “Freddie, Viagra and Valentine Day drama

  1. Ok ,it official,humor resides in this blog…You know your parent hates you when they give a name like Alex, Peter, Boniface, Gertrude and Paul. Gertrude……Kelvin, Bernard and Carol…

  2. Ave bn pinching my Getrude-ish cheeks for not having come across this blog earlier…u got talent en am loving every piece.hope u got room for one more reader.

  3. at times its so had to leave a reply. Anyway Getrude and Sheila somebody gotta give these 2 chicks some credit. Pwagu hupata pwaguzi. Ha ha you two got what you deserved (pun intended) chuck it up. Did Freddie ‘die’ because of starvation? I surely hope he did.

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