Since my recent fall out with Patricia who unceremoniously parted ways with me for an escapade with a Subaru lad, I was yesterday in the process of courting a young woman from our immediate neighbor to the south. She was quite beautiful with sharp, almond-shaped eyes that seemed to pierce right through the heart. She was also quite curvy in all the right places and she had long wavy hair, all of which are characteristics that I look for in a damsel. I couldn’t wait to snap erotic selfies with her and post them on social media simply to attract the ire of Patricia (a petty thing to do, I know, but incredibly satisfying). She needed to see that I wasn’t hung up on her as much as she thought.
Anyway, it was during this brief encounter with the Tanzanian that a friend called to inform me that his mother had flown out to Mombasa for the holidays and left him custody of her car and he needed me to drive him to Nakuru while he made out with his unattractive girlfriend on the back seat. I never ever turn down an opportunity to get behind the wheel. During my parent’s wedding on the 24th of August this year (after 25 years of a come-we-stay arrangement), I spent the better part of the day running errands with my dad’s car. The fact that I didn’t even witness them exchanging vows didn’t seem to bother me one bit. I simply enjoyed driving around delivering things and people back and forth.
I was also the last to get dressed at around 1.00pm and arrived only to find the convoy exiting the church for a brief photoshoot somewhere on the eastern bypass. I made a u-turn and followed the convoy only to be stopped halfway and asked to go back and run more errands which I did joyfully. Of the countless photos taken that day, I only appeared in two which were taken during the reception.
Therefore when my friend offered me a chance to drive him to Nakuru in a sleek Lexus, I happily obliged and I had to part ways with the Tanzanian. Her pleas to keep her company fell on deaf ears. I put cars first before ladies, I’d rather marry a car (literally).
I did make the trip to Nakuru in the Lexus in spite of the unorthodox activities that took place on the back seat and I thoroughly enjoyed the drive. The experience was a far cry to what i was accustomed to in fielders and “kadudus.” Acceleration was insane and one felt confident while overtaking. Just a slight nudge of the throttle and the car lurches forward (is the lexus turbocharged?) with zeal and vigour pushing my back into the fine leather seats. Handling was decent but a tad sloppy around sharp corners with a noticeable amount of understeer and body roll but not nearly enough to flip the car over. The brakes however were not reassuring in spite of the fact that both front and rear units were disc brakes. I simply did not feel confident enough in its ability to come to a quick halt when I needed it to, but I could be wrong or the units on this particular Lexus had not been serviced for a worryingly long time.
Needless to say however, the Tanzanian was not amused and has since refused to answer any of my calls but given the chance, I would do it over and over again. Oddly enough, she was more pissed at the fact that I had left her to go drive a car than at the existence of semi-nude photos of Dakota Fanning in my phone gallery. Women, can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.
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