I know of men who claim the size of a woman’s ass is a deal-breaker for them, but the same men will salivate at a woman’s big ass only to take off once they notice one of her upper incisor teeth is too big for her to shut her mouth. Or men who say if a woman is light-skinned he will pita with her even if her boobs are the size of pastor Ngang’as brain, only to take off on realizing she has crooked eyes so, to see what’s on the West, she faces East.
I went into this club to have one or two for the road. I hadn’t touched alcohol in a while and wasn’t going to but I was stressed because my phone needs fixing and this fundi everyone had described as the best iPhone fundi, and who always seemed like he had ants biting his buttocks, had said, “I tried my best. There’s nothing I or anyone else can do.”
It was devastating because now all the nudes on my phone were gone? Haha? Because, let’s face it, unless you are Bakari, you don’t backup nudes. You just don’t do that. I needed to forget about that phone for a minute and alcohol was going to deliver results. I had had a couple of beers when I looked to my right and saw this lady in a short black dress. She had really brown thighs, and I say really brown thighs because even her face, still brown, wasn’t that brown. I must have stared at her thighs for far too long because when I looked up I met her curious face.
I looked away but I couldn’t ignore her stare so I looked at her again and mumbled.
“What?” she mouthed.
I mumbled again and she held her ears and shook her head to notify me she couldn’t hear me. Of course, she couldn’t. Some Luo song was banging from the speakers and my mumbling was surely not going to be louder than a Luo man singing about Nyar Kisumo, was it? I mumbled again and perhaps amused by my futile efforts, she gestured for me to go over and I gathered my bottles and joined her table.
“I couldn’t hear what you were saying,” she said, leaning too close to my ear. The corners of her eyes crinkled up in a smile I felt a little warm inside—the cold beers and devastating state of my phone had frozen my intestines.
“Was apologising for staring,” I said.
“You were?” she said before breaking into a peal of laughter. “Anyway, just messing with you.”
“Ha-ha. I am Sossion, by the way.” I pulled myself up onto this long chair.
“Sossion? As in Wilson Sossion?”
“Yes, only in place of Wilson we have Christopher. So Christopher Sossion.”
“Is that your real name?”
“Shocking, right? I am not sure what my parents were thinking.”
“Ha-ha. So your friends call you Chris, I suppose?”
“I wish that was the case. They prefer Sossion.”
“Bad friends. Anyway, my name is Rose.”
“Nice to meet you, Rose. Expecting someone?”
“Yes. My friend will be joining me in a few. But you are welcomed to stay.”
“I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“Ha-ha. You are funny.”
“Funny guys get the girl, right?”
“Thanks for the encouragement.”
She laughed and asked, “What about you? Not expecting anyone?”
“Only drunkness. I expect to go home drunk.”
I stole glances at her thighs because something had crept into my mind and whispered that perhaps she was wearing a brown stocking? I looked to be sure before dismissing this thought. No, no stocking. Just thighs. I was sure if she locked my head between her thighs and rubbed them together she would start a fire. A small fire, but fire all the same. Perhaps it was in this moment of me paying respect to her thighs that she thought I was distracted, because she asked, “Something eating you up?”
“Yes. But I can’t talk about it. It’s too embarrassing.”
“Now I am curious,” she sipped her beer. “Tell me about it.”
“I don’t know,” I pretended to be mulling over this thought before heaving a sigh. “My girlfriend of three years left me.”
“Oh,” she said, totally surprised. “Sorry about that. What happened?”
“She said she couldn’t keep up with what she described as ‘peculiar’ fetish.”
Her eyebrows cranked up.
“Thing is,” I said, trying so hard to stifle my laughter because I couldn’t believe I was going with this excuse out of all the excuses and lies I could come up with. “I loved being tickled as part of foreplay.”
She threw her head back laughing.
“I am sorry,” she placed her hand on her chest to muffle her laughter. “I don’t mean to be rude, but, what?”
I shrugged. “Judging by your reaction, I guess it’s no surprise she left.”
“Ha-ha. Haki pole but I can’t help myself. Ati what? Tickle you where? Like in your belly ama beneath your feet?”
“For morning glory I prefer beneath my feet because my belly would be empty and tickling it would be like tickling a shell. But any other time the belly would do.”
“Are you serious?”
“Jeez,” she wiped a tear off her eyes. “I am sorry but this is the funniest thing I have ever heard.”
“He-he, so you are just gonna laugh at my pain as if…”
A petite dark-skinned lady in a glittering short dress that stopped just an inch beneath her ass joined us. She had short hair with a golden line running across it from the left side. Gorgeous smile. Polished English. Rose jumped off her seat to hug her and when she complimented her dress, she raised her hand and said, “I know, right? Thanks a bunch. You too look gorgeous in that dress. Is it the one I bought for you?”
“Shut up. Anyway, meet Sossion here. He was just telling me a funny story when you walked in.”
“Sossion, I didn’t know anyone else, other than the one and only Sossion we all know, goes by that name.”
“It’s just the two of us,” I said.
“I believe you. I am Christine.”
“Nice to meet you, Christine.”
She pulled a chair and before she sat, she threw us glances and said, “I hope you two weren’t planning on having sex tonight.”
“No, not at all,” I said.
“Not that I would be against it,” she said with a smile.
“Sossion here is nursing a heartbreak.” Rose was itching to get back to the tickling story.
“Poor thing, what happened?”
Rose filled her in and Christine, too, just like Rose, broke into a burst of laughter. At this point, I also started laughing juu enyewe this story was just ridiculous. But it lightened the mood and at some point, Christine said, “Enyewe that is a deal-breaker.”
“Would it be for you too?” I asked.
She held her cheeks and thought about it. She said, “Hold on,” and then flagged down the waiter to order Tusker Cider. “Perhaps not. Tickling is a weird fetish but I think the deal-breaker for me would be my man moaning more than me. In fact, any kind of moaning will be a deal-breaker.”
“Come on, a man groaning is sexy,” said Rose.
“Groaning is different from moaning, babe. Can you imagine your man producing the soundtracks you normally produce?” she said as if she was perfectly aware of the kinds of moaning Rose usually produced and I would have pursued that matter but decided not to. “Your neighbours wondering kwani why does this girl moan in base? Kumbe it’s your man.”
We all laughed at that and then Rose, who was now very tipsy, said, “For me, the deal-breaker would be my man asking me to stick a finger up his ass,” and I spat the drink in my mouth in laughter. We laughed so hard everyone turned to look at us and for a moment I didn’t feel so sad about my phone anymore. We drank some more. Chatted some more about deal-breakers and I made a mental note to ask you, if you read this blog, to tell us what would be a deal-breaker for you. Because we deserve to know, no?