Walking Half Dead
Yesterday, I posted a piece on the blog about how I believe the end of the world will be caused by a woman. As expected, I ended up trying to convince people how I am not gay and how I have no personal grudges towards women. What I really should have said is that I have no grudges and neither do I have any resentment either, just a conviction that is firmly rooted in my subconscious that women are not to be trusted. But that is a story for another day when the dust has settled. The real significance of the events of Yesterday is that everything and everyone is trying to prove me wrong- that women can be trusted. And I was on my way to healing and rehabilitation that I could indeed trust a woman for most part of today, except I nearly died in the process.
So I am waiting for a niece of mine in town, specifically at Kenya Cinema because I cannot condone people who tell me to wait for them at Ambassadeur or worse, “Niko kwa hii building ndefu ya white karibu na Tea room…”, phone in my hand and wary of everyone passing by just in case Linda Ogutu happens to pass by. Lord knows I have made enough fun of her side effects in the recent weeks. I log on to twitter to post a funny thought that just came to my mind but I stop midway in disbelief. Shock registers next and before I know it, I am gasping for air. I know I am now on my bus ride to hell. Let’s face it, no way in hell I of all people I’m going to Heaven. Isn’t my fault really, but what am I supposed to do? I am claustrophobic and since my Pastor did mention that road to Heaven is quite narrow so being realistic, I know I just… I can’t. The only good thing is I know I am going to collapse and die peacefully in my sleep like my grandpa, unlike the passengers in his car who died kicking and screaming.
In front of me, two women pass by. The first one is pretty and I’m tempted to think it is the love of my life, Julie Gichuru, except I know she doesn’t wear condom shoes. I make a mental note- or rather, I do quick calculations with one of my heads- I leave you to decide which- and decide she isn’t worth the sweat. It is the second one that almost does irreparable damage to my eyes and consequently my nervous system. The woman is dressed in things I cannot begin to describe as clothes. Shoot me dead before I concede they even resemble clothes. But that’s not all; she looks like a scene from the last episode of Spartacus. Not bloody, just unbelievable. Okay, and maybe a little bloody too. She literally has every color on the visible spectrum of light, which my learned friend Fabian believes is what Torres uses to confuse his enemies- apparently he kicks the ball so fast that the ball goes beyond the speed of light, meaning it is not visible as it goes into the net and we only think he missed the goal because we see the ball outside the net after it has slowed down.
Anyway, back to this woman. She has on her every imaginable color if you consider that her face is black as well- note, I said black not dark. Dark is beautiful. She is hideous. In fact, the only thing that looks okay is her mascara, whose color matches with her top. I know it is okay to be ugly, but she seems to be overdoing it. My heart initially goes out to her, filled with deep felt sympathy and pity. At this point I blame God for how she looks because he is the creator after all… But that is short lived because she stops when she sees me. I panic, but not enough to make me run away. She starts smiling and from this point I know I am not safe. She starts walking towards me, but my back is already pressed to the wall at this point. I can’t run away. “Victor…,” she starts and I freeze. She knows my name. I feel a sweat make its way down my spine and I imagine what the lad I trained a few weeks back how to get the hot women would say. I could pray for a bus to hit her at this point, but there are no buses in sight. So I start wishing that I could die. Then IT happens.
I don’t really remember what happened next but I can conclusively tell you that I almost died. Or so my niece tells me. Apparently I got so scared to death I fainted. Okay, in this case half to death because I didn’t really die. I call it my near death experience but now I am worried that the next time I get scared half to death again I will surely die if the algebra I learnt in school wasn’t a fallacy. My point being, because of a woman, I am now literally walking half dead. I am just glad the woman in question wasn’t around when I came to because you wouldn’t be reading this post. Also, don’t look around for any CCTV cameras in that area to see her. I took the liberty of pulling them off to spare your lives- and my dignity. I know realize that life is too short to not think carefully about what you wish for.