The last time I was at Gardens Square restaurant was in the early 90’s. This is the club where I used to take Jane Achieng (
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5CIIQ025KM ). To jog your memory and bring on-board the likes of @User and @Impunity who had not yet been born, Garden Square is one club where several live bands used to play in the 70’s and 80’s. Have you ever heard of Les Kinois which metamorphosed to Les Virunga, have you ever heard of Super Mazembe, Les Wanyika (Kajituliza Kasuku), Orch. Bwabe Bwabe, Les Mangelepa? I doubt since I know I am talking to
watu wa kurusha mikono hewani for a whole night. When do you ever have time to squeeze your boo, not to have the goods but to go home with some inspiration that will make you see her again? Anyway, after so many years, I found myself at Gardens Square. Little did I know that the place had changed to Gardens Square Funeral Restaurant.
I had gone there to attend a funeral arrangements meeting for Kisongoi. Kisongoi was my friend, besides being my car washer for many years. When I arrived there I saw more than 100 small groups and asked myself whether the climate change conference venue had been changed from Durban to Nairobi Garden Square and that participants were discussing an important issue on global warming in small groups? I quickly picked my phone and called Kasamu, the person organizing Kisongoi’s funeral. He explained to me that the place is always like that every day, from morning to late at night…people organizing funerals. When I looked around not a single soul was drinking beer. Everybody was in a somber mood. I think when the Son of man comes back; one place you should pray to find yourself at is Gardens Square. Remember I have warned you never to be near Mulolongo where Mulolongo Brothers have an office. Also try to avoid Parklands and Westlands. Westlands is Sodom and Gomorrah. When you are at Westlands ensure that you have your hands covering your arsehole or else somebody shoves something up there. Anyway having spent a few weeks with Kamau helping him look for land in Malili, I picked my calculator and did the sum…1000X 100 = Ksh 100,000…Every day! No tax! Some people can mint money! If I had space in the city I would start a
Magigi Funeral Bar and Restaurant and mint money like other men…and men and women would drink sitting on coffins. How lovely!
Anyway, when Kisongoi was alive he was a nice guy, a very humorous guy. I remember one day after he had completed doing a thorough job on my car, he asked me;
“Magigi”
“Yes Kisongoi”
“When I die what you will do for me”
“I will contribute ksh 20,000 for your funeral arrangements”
“That is so nice Magigi”
“Kisongoi, wi mundu wan nye (Kisongoi, you are my man)”
We parted company and I went my way. At around 6 in the evening I saw a call from Kisongoi. I picked the call;
“Magigi”
“ Yes Kisongoi”
“Did you say you will contribute Ksh 20,000 towards my funeral when I die?”
“Yes, Ksongoi I said that”
“Now Magigi, It is not nice to contribute that much money when I am gone. Since when did the dead start spending money? Can I have Ksh 5,000 of that money today and then you will give the balance for my funeral arrangements?”
I cut the phone and rolled down in laughter. You should have seen me. The English translation from Kamba cannot bring out the true humor and I guess that is why Ngugi wa Thiong’o chose to change from writing in English to vernacular. Some thoughts can only be expressed in vernacular. After I had almost peed on myself because of too much laughter, I picked the phone and asked Kisongoi to come and collect the money at Lalaamkahapa mbaa and lestolandi. By the time Kisongoi died I had given him Ksh 19,750 and to be fair to him I gave a balance of ksh 250 to the funeral committee. Nobody could understand why I was contributing such a small amount of money and I did not bother to explain.
At around 8 pm after the meeting at the Cemetery I headed to a Country Golf Club in Karen, where Plato had invited me for a drink and a chat. I was not sure if I wanted to go there because of the formality in those places. You can’t pee outside and feel good, you can’t vomit when you feel like it…That is why I love Mwaulas Pub. If you have never known, the rich are the poorest souls I have ever seen on earth. Not that I would mind being one but for sure I would revolutionize the way they live. How do you go to a club and take only two bottles of beer? How do you drink and you don’t stagger? What kind of drinking is that? Anyway I went and found Plato busy talking to four gentlemen. I sat down and after introductions, I ordered a beer. Nobody welcomes you with a beer in those places as I would do at Lalaamkahapa mbaa and lestolant. The rich are as mean as a weasel. The discussion taking place that time was a complete turn off. How do folks in their right mind discuss boardroom wars at CMC at 10 pm on a Friday? The next talk was about Swiss accounts and who has which account and where. I could not take it any longer. I looked around and saw two beautiful women with nice legs and sharp boobs, the ones that are as upright as midday, the ones that beckon for a squeeze, the way I squeeze avocados… Now I was wondering why they were not discussing those two women seating all by themselves. In the course of their discussion I learnt that they were wives to two of the gentlemen.
Earlier in the day I had taken a bottle of Cane at Mwaula’s Pub, I still had enough courage to go up to them. I excused myself from the 4 gentlemen and headed to the loo. On my way back I passed by and started chatting them up. I told them how bored I was because I don’t discuss business matters on a Friday night. As I soon I finished saying this, they all shouted, “you are our guy, our hubbies there are a complete bore”. They were a bit tipsy because of a few glasses of wine and so somehow careless with their words, which was an advantage for me. I introduced myself and knew I had started scoring points by saying the right thing. Then, by good luck one of them got a call and went outside. I was left with the one who looked like she last had sex two years ago…those eyes!!! Her name was Clara. I excused myself and rushed to where I had packed my Probox, took the bottle of Cane that had remained, gulped all the contents and went back to Clara.
“It’s a nice place you have here”, I muttered with my eyes now looking straight into hers.
“Yes, it is, though sometimes it gets a bit boring and lonely”
“How is that with all nice the things around?”
“Nice things, well not everything is nice around here”
I asked her if she could show me the golf course and she obliged. It was one long and nice walk.
“You are very lucky to have a golf course like this where your hubby can take you for a walk”
“Who?” she remarked, “My husband has never taken me for a walk”.
“What do you do when you come here?”
“Well, I wait for him to discuss business matters as I take my wine and then we go home”
“If I were him I would be laying you on these lawns”
“What, you can do that?”
“Yes, I lay my lady everywhere and it’s always very sweet”
“Mmmhhhh, I wish I was her. Where else do you do it with your lady?’
“In flights, in swimming pools, along the beach, in the ocean, at keshas, in toilets, while driving and any other place you can imagine of”
“At Keshas, Magigi you are the craziest Kenyan I have met???”
“Yes, you see the night can be very long and you need various activities to kill it and if you don’t lay her the pastor will!”
Now we were almost reaching the end of the golf course, when I asked her:
“You want to tell me that your husband has never laid you outside a bed”?
“Yes”
“Mmmmmhhh…You need to try something new, like getting laid at Lang’ata Cemetery!. That is the only place I have not tried” She giggled.
At this time I was already holding her hand and she was responding nicely. I kept on squeezing it as we walked along and she squeezed it back. I asked her if we could sit down and she obliged. I wish Romeo of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet was alive to see how my love was being returned. The grass was smooth and the weather was nice. It was a bit warm and even if it was cold, I wouldn’t have realized because of the high temperatures generated inside me by Clara. It must have been real love mixed with lust. The sky was clear and it seemed like all the stars had stopped moving to stare at us. The half moon looked like it was moving closer to us to ensure that there was enough light to look at each other’s eyes. The air was still and the trees had stopped shaking. The birds were no longer chirping and I could sense that they were watching and listening to our conversation. She wore a short Jeans skirt, a T shirt and a Jacket to match. The short skirt revealed her well formed legs. These are the legs that Kasamu calls High Definition legs. Her bum was a 3D bum. No sooner had we sat down than we found ourselves exchanging saliva. Her succulent lips tasted like chocolate. And how nice it was! I told her that if she were an ice cream, I would lick her dry. My hand started exploring and the fingers could not help do the walking. This went on for some minutes when my mind told me that it was about time. I closed my eyes and stretched my hand further to feel her G-string. No resistance. I peeled it off and put it inside my pocket. I removed my pair of jeans and my shirt and spread them for her to lie on.
Then I started to Kachabali, followed by a
swipe, kachabali swipe, kachabali, swipe, kachabali, kachabali, kachabali, Kachabali, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe, kachabali, swipe, kachabali, swipe,kachabali, swipe…swipe, kachabali, swipe, kachabali, kachabali, swipe…When I saw her open her mouth wide open and give a deep groan, I knew it was about time I did deep sea fishing. Now…Just when the head had just gotten in a few inches, I heard a cough behind me and I knew that minute that I would be together with Kisongoi in a few minutes. The thought that crossed to my mind that minute was that the husband had come looking for her. I grabbed my pair of jeans and took off towards the forest. You should have seen me as I started running. It was like Carl Tundo taking off during the Safari Rally.
It took me almost one hour to locate where the bar was and also trace my Probox. Lucky enough my car keys were inside my pair of jeans. I left my phone, my pair of shoes and a shirt where she was. Inside the Probox, I fished out the G-string, sniffed it twice and looked at it...and lo, it looked so expensive. The thought of throwing it away was out. I sniffed it again and wondered why such a good thing could have slipped away from me. My next concern now was where to get a shirt and a pair of shoes. As I was pulling off from the club, Nakumatt Mega came to my mind…ahhhhh…I laughed inside myself. Thanks to 24 hour shopping!!! I drove all the way. I had to concoct a story so that the supermarket attendants may not think me mad. I arrived there in my pair of socks and jeans. I told them that I had just been robbed! But since they are all fools who did not take advantage of Moi’s initiative of ensuring that every district had a university, they did not ask me why my wallet was still with me and loads of cash in it! I bought what I wanted and walked out laughing. My next headache was where to take the expensive G-String. After looking at it and sniffing for a few minutes, a thought crossed my mind. I will tie something in the Probox engine so that Buggati will not see it. You see, Buggatti has a habit of driving my car when I least expect it. I knew one place Bugatti will never open is the car engine. So I tied it around one of those AC pipes which are always cold and hence no danger of it getting burnt. I got home safely at 3 am in the morning.
At around 11 am, Plato came home. I was woken up. Plato led me to his car and opened the door to the back seat. As soon as he opened the door I saw my phone, my pair of shoes and my shirt. We headed to Lalaamkahapa mbaa and lestolandi where we laughed our arses off as he told me how I ran away from a watchman. He will be taking me there again tomorrow evening and I will be seeing her….hulalaaahhhhhh…..
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Merry Christmas to you all. Too much sex with your partner has never killed...Too much alcohol does. Have as much of the former as possible. ENJOY
magigistocks@gmail.com