As a fact, God punished women with periods and child birth and getting wet when it’s not even raining; doesn’t matter if they have umbrellas. Of course, our God is a fair God; He had to punish men too. He made us deal with women on their periods. I have stated this before in this blog time and again, I am NOT homophobic; but you understand why God hates gay people. They obviously found a loop hole in His punishments.
Away from religion, there are few things that scare me. Among them are losing the people that I love and care about and being anally raped by any one. Ask the guy that was robbed at dick point, Wateba it was, I think, if you don’t think this fear is valid. I also fear failing. No, scratch that. I hate failing. I fear that I will end up alone- and at this rate that is where I am headed- and I also fear that the Muslims were right all long and that Christianity is bullshit and we’ll all end up in hell as the terrorists have sex with their 70 virgins. Naturally, I also fear death, as well as my dear team, Arsenal, losing. Not to worry though, we have the Wizard of Oz11.
Then, there is the new fear I discovered I have not very long ago. Over the last weekend actually. I fear being pissed on. Especially if the person that’s going to pee on you is female.
I am not insinuating anything. But one thing is clear; I am never talking to any female first year students. With the exception of Daisy that is. Ever. Let me explain my decision.
As everyone who reads this blog knows, I am a drunk. I love beer and everything it stands for. As I once pointed out, beer is possibly the best thing ever invented. Beer allows you to see things as they are. Beer helps you get rid of that brain so everything is clear.
That ugly neighbor of yours, just drink two bottles and suddenly you will see beauty as God intended it to be; in the inside. That girl you’ve wanted to hit on for ages, beer will make that possible; It will give you all the confidence you need to grab a hammer to hit that. Beer will allow you to tell that asshole that’s been making you feel like shit that he’s shit. Yes, beer allows you tell him he’s shit even when you’re not in the toilet. Beer is also the best slimming chemical ever invented; beer makes you lean. On tables and random strangers though.
But that’s beside the point.
So, last weekend I found myself drinking beer for all its above mentioned benefits. And she walked in. She was beautiful. Again, refer to the benefits afore mentioned. She wore a short dress that exposed her long legs and made her cleavage seem like it would divert the attention of any sniper. That includes the sniper from the movie Saving Private Ryan. Yes, she got a number of men slapped by their girlfriends for staring too long at her. I needn’t say the girl I was currently hitting on slapped me too. From the moment she walked into the place, for me it was love at first site. Literally. And no Pepper, that wasn’t a typo.
Anyway, this beautiful lass walks up to the counter and orders a bottle of vodka. Vodka; and she’s on her own, which effectively signals the race to get her number. After all, we’re in Juja. Men here sense fresh female blood the moment it steps out of a jav. Count Dracula would be proud. If you don’t believe me just visit the JKUAT swimming pool. If God suddenly decided to unleash a virus that made all men cum at the very same moment, the JKUAT swimming pool would be a national resource for sperms.
Nonetheless, the girl walks up, aware of the attention she’s receiving and (miraculously) sits at the table next to the one we’re seated in. I assume my natural charms have something to do with it. I mean, it wasn’t my fault I was born very handsome. Wafunya, when I talk about handsome I am not talking about the other kind of handsome that involves Vaseline Petroleum Jelly. Anyhu, either that or the Axe deodorant I’m wearing if the Axe adverts are to be believed. I decide to take advantage of my obvious advantage. I ‘accidentally’ spill what’s left of my drink with a very precise aim that’s aimed at her shoes and I curse out loud, of course after saying sorry. She turns and laughs. My cue.
I turn to her and boldly proclaim her hotness must have heated my bottle to the point I couldn’t hold it any more. Cheesy, I know, even for my standards. She keeps on drinking her vodka. My pals, who’ve been following the proceedings carefully burst out laughing. One of them offers me his not yet opened bottle of Tusker.
Then a waiter places an empty glass on the table, right where my arms are. Suddenly, the girl pours alcohol into my glass and says she’s sorry her hotness made me spill my drink. Yeah, my pals shut up in unison. First time that’s happened in ages. She raises her arm and greets me.
“I’m Victor. And I have no idea what’s going on.”
Audrey laughs and says takes a sip off her glass. Then:
“You’re an idiot. If that’s the pickup line you use to get girls you deserve to die a virgin. You’re lame.
“Do you see me in a wheel chair?”
Audrey gives me this priceless WTF look.
“Plus you just poured alcohol into my glass.”
“Yeah, I was sorry for your obvious effort.”
At this point in time I have to mention I can’t really remember anything else because Audrey’s vodka got me pretty drunk. So we’ll just fast forward to 9 am the next day. However, right now I do feel like I have just drank a bottle of varnish… I do expect a lovely finish.
******* 9 a.m. The Next Morning***********
We’re at my pal’s house. On the couch. I refuse to speculate whether we had sex or not. As afore mentioned, I can’t really remember anything. Killi and someone else I can’t really remember are playing FIFA. Killi is losing- as always- and Audrey is texting on her phone. And then I reach for my phone in my right pocket and freeze. My pants are wet. I instantly wake up like Rihanna and Ariana Grande just told me we’re having a threesome. I rush for the loo.
The moment I’ve locked the door I reach for my boxers. They’re dry; which doesn’t make any sense at all. I calmly remove my pants and smell them. I hope it’s beer. As you’ve all guessed by now, it’s not. I slowly wear my pants and walk out of the toilet.
“Audrey, ebu kuja nje kiasi.” I don’t really care for English now. I walk out and Audrey follows.
“Ok,what happened? Why do my pants stink of pee?”
“Errrrm, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry boo. *whispering* I peed on myself. I didn’t think it reached to your pants.”
At least, she does look genuinely sorry. I calmly walk into the house and get the cushion. Killi and the other guy I can’t remember are too busy with FIFA to notice. Killi has just equalized. I place the cushion on the rail in the balcony.
“If anybody asks, you accidentally spilled water on the seat.”
I tell Killi I’ll see him later on during the day and walk out. Audrey tries to pretend nothing happened. As I walk out, I delete her number from my phone. It officially goes down in history as the first time I got a girl wet and she returned the favour. Only her’s is too literal to be even minutely sexual. You can thus understand why I am never hitting on any girl that’s more than two years younger than me.