The horse-drawn carriage first landed in mesopotamia (modern day middle east) in the year 1900B.C. and was widely in use by Kings, nobles and peasants alike until the 20th century as a convenient mode of transporting goods and people making it the rightful precursor to the modern automobile albeit for a tad over 4,900 years later when the first real car, the ford model T, rolled off the assembly line at the ford piquette assembly plant in Detroit, Michigan, on august 12th 1908.
Fast foward to december 20, 2019 and I’m sitted on a plastic chair outside my business premises in the dusty outskirts of Kasarani. I observe in horror a heavily built man in a blue Subaru leisurely cruising around the neighbourhood, windows down, accompanied by the damsel whom i’m greatly enamoured with; Patricia, better known by her unimaginative nickname “pat” and i feel nothing but disdain and contempt for the individual in question. I spit in distaste causing curiosity and murmurs among my colleagues as to the cause of the sudden souring of my mood.
She had opted for a guy who was better than me in every possible way, heavily built, good looking and proud owner of a souped up Subaru. Way to go Patricia, stomping on my self-esteem like that.
It’s one thing for that subaru connoisseur to zoom past the neighbourhood with his deafening anti-lag system and sweet turbo blow-off valve whistle but it’s another entirely for him to abuse the privilege of owning what is perhaps one of the best things to happen in the world of motoring (besides the evo) to unscrupulously acquire another man’s concubine, his knowledge (or lack thereof) of the same not withstanding when i’m convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that if the playing ground was levelled and none of us had any leverage of turbocharged beasts to woo the damsel in question, i would win fair and square given my eloquence and creative, impeccably-timed pick-up lines but that idiot just couldn’t resist the urge to use his beast to woo the woman of my dreams. Part of the blame however lies squarely on the lady for using cars (a bloody subaru) as the yardstick for measuring a man’s worth.
When the mesopotamians were putting together the first horse-drawn carriage in 1900B.C., this is not the vision they had in mind. If Henry Ford had in 1908 been told his model T for example would be the car of choice for girlfriend thieves, he would probably have halted all operations and exiled himself to the Southern States where he would begin life afresh as a hillbilly cotton farmer. He and the Mesopotamians did not go through all that trouble only for their inventions to be abused by charlatans such as the fellow in question. These inventions were built primarily as a convenient, less strenuous means of transporting goods and people. How that evolved into using these works of art to woo those of the fairer sex into accepting coitus is frankly beyond me.
Christmas being a few days away, this is not how Christ envisioned the spirit of his birthday would be. In the spirit of Christmas, the fellow should have instead handed me the car with a full tank and in accordance with the bro code (what happened to the bro code?) to cruise around with my other half pro bono. Back in the proverbial days of yore, before the advent of motoring, women would be swayed by colorful animal skins, select animal skulls and fancy displays of physical strength and dominance. How times change. I couldn’t possibly blame her for being swayed by a six pack and a sleek Subaru though, it’s a tradition that dates back ages.
She may also have thought that I’m stuck in a perpetual state of poverty – my potbelly and bizzarre eating habits notwithstanding – and given the fact that there isn’t even a bloody wheelbarrow to my name. If that’s the case, then it makes this entire charade a whole lot worse since she gleefully munched on the little I had while playing the game of musical chairs with my mind all along. A psychopath test by a qualified psychiatrist (on her tab) would be in order at this point, no one in their right mind does that.
Unbeknownst to them however, this betrayal was all the motivation i needed to work extra hard on my billion dollar business idea that will hopefully break even in a couple of years and generate enough legal tender for me to acquire a stage III tune evolution x and challenge the charlatan to a drag race at an abandoned airstrip somewhere. If the almighty will be on my side on the material day, i will hopefully embarrass him repeatedly in front of my former girlfriend now turned wife to my foe and to dozens of other curious onlookers and friends. She may have to seriously reconsider her life choices if i happen to win.
If by sheer happenstance however i happen to lose and given my competitive nature and reputation of not taking defeat lightly, i may have to exile myself halfway across the world to Mexico, change my name to Pepito and start life afresh as a chauffeur for a drug kingpin.
In the meantime, I will put up a brave face and pretend that the loss of my significant other (to of all people a random bloke in a blue subaru) didn’t feel like a thousand knives to the heart while I ponder over where the rain started beating us in our failed relationship.
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