Confused, my Best Friend’s Girlfriend Loves me
Last weekend, a friend of mine was planning to propose to his girlfriend. Bringing me into the mix to help organize the whole thing was horrendous bizzare and a big mistake he would live to regret. It was meant to be airtight and secretive. Steadmark Gardens, Karen was the venue. This guy went to the venue ahead of me to acclimatize with the environment, negotiate and profoundly talk down prices in advance as the proxy (me) went for the lady. I had told the lady earlier that I would be taking her out for dinner on Sunday. She never even resisted, considering again that I wasn’t her boyfriend.
This guy texts me that all is fine, all payments have been made, the ring is safe and expectant, and that that I needed to deliver the beautiful package in my possession. In solidarity with him, I hired a Toyota Vitz( though I always prefer Toyota Succeed). The melodramatic lady was in at that moment. I eschewed everything from her.
She cast a glance at me and said;
“Denis, I think Jemo and I have no future together. I mean I don’t like this guy. This guy is not romantic at all. He has money, yes, but I think I’m missing something. I can’t feel him. This relationship is not what I envisaged from the beginning. Imagine if I had a guy like you! Denis, you’re every lady’s dream. Denis, I like you. Let this dinner be a turning point. Don’t you like what you’re seeing?”
I looked at what I was seeing a second time, the Toyota Vitz almost hit a pedestrian who was chewing sugarcane near the road. At that point as a man, you’re the most confused being on the surface of the earth. The brain stops working. You lose all the morals you learned in Sabbath and Sunday schools. You become immobile and paralyzed.
She was God’s handiwork. She had a short black dinner dress that conspicuously exposed her orange thighs. The cleavage was beckoning all and sundry. I lost sense of the occasion. To complicate the whole hullabaloo she had immersed me into, she held the back of my head with her soft and tender palms and softly whispered in my ears, like a gentle breeze;
‘I’m all yours.’ Nkt.
If I die I die. The vicarious thrill I got, reading from her body language, was orgasmic. Dilemma. Should I respect my friendship with Jemo or play a superhero? My form one business lesson came to reality. Opportunity cost. The benefit of the forgone alternatives. I excused myself briefly from the car.
‘Hey Jemo, things are not good. The lady went to visit her aunt in Kilimambogo.’
Back in the car, the lady was getting impatient.
‘Naughty boy, that was one of your admirers.’
“Of course. I told you your boyfriend Jemo is a scumbag. He can’t even take care of such a beauty. Is he even preparing to propose or he’s just wasting your time? Such a horrible and snobbish son of a pig. How did you fall in love with such a cow? Don’t tell someone…he’s a drug dealer and a notorious criminal.”
We changed course. The evening was well spent in Weston Hotel.
Today is our three-day anniversary. The holiday is just doing fine. I even forgot to update my website.