A Boozer. A Loser.A Poser.

Sundays are my favorite of the week and as such,I have a tradition. Mostly I wake up hangover-ed so it  starts at in the college morning then head for coffee at Java, my fav coffee House.

This Sunday in November of last year was no different.

There was a nationwide power blackout so I ended up going for dinner and coffee at my local mall which has a branch of Java.

As I wait for my order of  medium done steak and chips with a huge mug of double latte, I throw a sweeping glance at the veranda to my left.

See this coffee shop has a wall of glass which allows you to regularly keep updated with the influx of eye candy causing traffic. I only look outside to admire the flowers at the flower shop on the opposite side.

This glance was interrupted by a…………(I am trying to find a polite word)……

…..I give up, LOSER..

‘Are you Esther?’, he quickly asks before I have him standing in a pool of blood judging by the daggers I threw his way.

“No..’I quickly answered as I held my breathe.

(I’ll have you know that I suffer from Olfactophobia. I have a healthy fear of smells. I have such good memory of smells that I’d almost refer to someone by a smell rather than a name. I’m not good with names and faces but give me smells anyday. One sniff and I’ll remember you for the rest of my life.

Scents,aromas and smells always remind of a time capsule which I will probably want to reminisce about or not. For this reason, one look at you and I’ll anticipate how you smell.As I rule, I will hold my breath approximately 10 seconds before and after I pass a stranger on a street. Of course this duration varies depending on my judgement as you approach.)

So this guy doesn’t give me lead time to hold my breath and judging by the grey fleece he was wearing that had dark patches around the front buttons, a warning would have been highly appreciated. He worn sandals too.His feet look like they’d keep a team of specialists in business..the list is long.

He goes on to tell me that I resemble a certain ‘Esther’ he works with at the county’s biggest Mobile phone service provider, Safaricom. He is in Network design. An Engineer.

He quickly sits. He just as quickly starts to smell. He reeks of alcohol. Red seems to be his choice of color for his eyes this Sunday. He fidgets. He is mumbling something to do with a soccer game he had just watched in town. He remembers to mention how his bill was Ksh. 6,000 in 90 minutes.

He phone rings.His pals on the other end calling to thank him for the air tickets he bought them to the Coast. He was too busy to join them as he is working. He implies that he has money.He lives down the road and had come to return movies at the rental next to Java.

I pray that my dinner gets delayed because then I’d have to expose my food to his smell which means my stomach will eventually smell like him too. The Oracle is against me, my dinner is here.

He is asked for his order which he whispers, ‘Samosa. Pekee yake’. To be honest and judge me if you must, for a man of his imaginary stature I expected him to buy the joint…Ok,maybe he wasn’t hungry so I’ll cut him some slack.

Bite after bite,I apologize to my insides and tried explaining myself. In my defence, I only opened my mouth for the required width.

He quickly gobbles up the samosas and much as I was happy because his stay would be shortened,he exposes me to whole new array of smells. I choke and swallow. My memory has just received new RSS feed for immediate archiving..Plus he just won’t quit talking.

I was waiting for my best friend who seemed to take a lifetime to show up when I desperately need a lifeline.

Jamo,his name is, asks me out for a DINNER in Kikuyu. If you know the geography of Nairobi, Kikuyu (TOWN) is not anywhere between Yaya and Chaka Road so why in hell would I want to go to Kikuyu for dinner? He asks for my number.I give him my zain line which happened was  on a handset which can block calls and texts as well. I didn’t care,I had had the line for a week now and a new reason to dispose it.

My best friend shows up and give me a disapproving look after which we engage in a hearty conversation completely ignoring Jamo.

Our bills come, combined. And placed on my side.

Oh,why in hell would I want anything of mine touching his?Not even my bill,his salad of gagging smells is already entwined with my dinner.In my stomach..Yes ,I’m cold like that.

I kindly ask for a separate bill and to which Jamo pays his end and BEGS to leave. Yes, I look like I’d roll out and die if he leaves.In his eyes that is. A promise of Dinner in Kikuyu is mumbled and he is off.

Oh wait,he forgot to carry the coffee-house home with him.After all he has money,right..Anyway maybe he is isn’t that generous today. Sigh.

The rest of the evening goes uneventful save for the bouts of laughter as I explain the Jamo situation.

I eventually forgot about him and days turned into months.

Last Saturday, I walk into Yaya..

The floor is wet. Cleaning in progress.

And the cleanliness award goes to..(Drumroll please..)

The cleaner is Jamo in a Cleaners Uniform.Moppping.

He was shocked to see me.  This time I had adequate lead time for smell combat.30second for the cleaner, and an extra minute for Jamo before and after passing him. He had scarred me before.In more ways than smell-wise.

Maybe he was fired from Safaricom.Maybe he likes to clean as a hobby. Maybe he has a twin…Maybe..Just maybe..

Up in smoke.

So in February I had cravings for a head-rush.I thought it was the proverbial passing cloud but no.

In further analysis of my history, I realised that I usually go up in smoke  in the month of love. Yes, actually I broke my virginity (smoke virginity) 3 Valentine’s days ago.It was my first serious VD (no pun) as a single and what better way to celebrate it, right?..

We all gathered at my local fav hangout and gathered in a ring like birds of a feather and there he was,The Lord of the Ring. My first peddie. My innocence (smoke innocence) was gonna get some and more that night. I felt feather light that night,  like the birds we were.

A coupla powerpuffs (not the girls)later , I was in heaven. It hits you like music: no pain. Just head-rush after another. Mental orgasms like tiny little firecrackers in your head.

We then went on to proclaim many VDay monologues after another.. *Bliss*

So I told you to find a love and be with it in my last post,did you? See I went out and did that.

This year I did it and twice on Sunday.

Allow me:

See one of my fav girls, Ella is my life long partner in living on a knife’s edge. She is a greater baker among other things. We discovered baking ‘hushies’ as a pastime.

You get to have your cake,eat it and fly while at it.

Ella and I usually hang out on most weekends and consequently one thing leads to another.A head-rush to another. A high to another. February was that month for us.

I had the best of times from a dry mouth and throat (A reason not to talk to the total tool hitting on you), increased heart rate (I think being in love feels like this or just a workout), impaired coordination and balance (source of entertainment), delayed reaction time (oh yeah,takes forever to drink up so you spend less) , and diminished short-term memory (You get to plead the 5th on all false accusations pinned on you the morning after).

I must say I always enjoy my month of love. I take risks,mostly smoke propelled but I look back and that is the best month this year.

*Tried Arab Shisha too and it is comes in flavors which  is great. Head-rush guaranteed as well.And it is legal . Bad news is it’s worse than smoking cigarettes as the smoke inhaled is unfiltered.

Disclaimer: I do not promote use of any form of narcotics. I only fall prey in February.