Nairobi Dating Scences #part1

Hello there,

Writer's block (Read life lifing) season is upon me. So I asked my good friend Pato to write something so I could post it. And he did. I owe him lunch for that. So Pato had a lot to write, hence I will post two parts of his story. 

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Ladies and gentlemen, Introducing Patrick's work. Enjoy! 

What are your chances of you meeting your soul mate, probably slim to none, right? Wrong. What if you have met your soulmate and you fumbled the bag. Do you ever just bump into an old flame and think ‘Wow. I probably should have met her when I was a bit older and more mature but now she wouldn’t even look your way because she is chilling with the 'big boys', popping a bottle of Remy Martins 1942 in Dubai with caviar on the side and experiencing luxuries the Ritz Carlton hotel has to offer. I imagine the worst kind of feeling is seeing your ex on TV, say a reporter or news anchor. They are always in the limelight and you have to constantly see their face and to “zoea io sauti” (Atwoli’s voice) but this time it won’t be over the long midnight calls you used to have when you were head over heels with her whispering sweet nothings, no, this time it will be you bawling over the lost love because she has become a better person than you. She will always be the bearer of bad news no matter how juicy the headline is. Inferiority complex will set in and you will probably go on a downward spiral if you don’t know how to take your L’s like Baba. Unlike Baba you won’t have the option to reject the results and take it to court for a fair hearing. The point where the nail hits the head and where salt is added to the injury is when your celebrity girlfriend gets proposed to by a tycoon. The cookie crumbles. You’d feel like the world is tumbling and crushing you and you are short of air, gasping. You’d want the ground to break and swallow you whole but there are no shortcuts to life, you must wake up and suffer. You will fall but one thing we have all learnt in life and from experience since our parents did not prepare us for adulting (unless you were born rich) is that you have to pick yourself up, dust yourself and keep moving

Men are creatures of habit and most of us admit more than often, among our small circle of friends that we are no longer scared of heartbreak, we move from one relationship to another with ease. Words on the street is (street lingo) “kuoga na kurudi soko”. But kwa ground (in real life) premium tears is the order of the day. Most men hide behind the narrative “as long as I have smashed” you have nothing more to care about. Have you ever macked on a girl who is out of this world. And they always play the long game. You really have to sweat for it. You will go on several dates, expensive ones, the ones where you’d sit and breathe and the waiter will come with the bill and say to you “that will be 6 bucks for crème del air”, the ones where they bring you lime and hot water and a towel to clean your hands. But once you have smashed you will ghost her since you have no money to keep up that lifestyle. You only need to win once and you will be like you do not wanna go through that torturous cycle again. It is like a game of FIFA, if you are playing against a pro who you cannot beat, every time you play they consistently score goals, 7-0, 5-1 and then one time you beat them by luck you will never play them again. It is winner takes it all. Every man or woman has at least one heartbreak that took them to the fucking limit. I heard this story where mandem was crying in a matatu from parklands because he broke up with his girlfriend. They went on a 26 days bender and were always drunken to a stupor since alcohol was the evasive action to forget the heartbreak and evidently Stacy from Kilimani didn’t have feelings for him. The conductor thought he did not have bus fare so he paid for him because he is not accustomed to a man crying. On day 27, he went to the hospital because he woke up throwing up blood, he was not eating and only drank alcohol and the liver was affected. He had a well-paying that time, and he had a lot of change to spare, so in the 26 days all he did was wake up, buy a bottle of whiskey, chill with the homies, play Fifa, drink up to midnight and repeat. The hommies just wanted to drink, and they were like, “yoh bro don’t worry about it, there are plenty of women out there who will be willing to date you, you are good-looking. It is like a Notorious B.I.G lyric – I don’t chase them I replace them and if I am caressing the I am undressing them”. They all laugh heartily at this, it feels like everything was Okay for a moment. He chimes in and was like, “yeah, fuck that bitch. I’m gon be Okay, let’s go get another bottie of whiskey.” They were enabling each other but he had to stop and re-evaluate who he is after coming back from the hospital. 

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