THE GREY AREA
It’s GREY not GRAY. I leant the Queen’s English mate.
This the area where wrong and right merge, dark and light co-exist and nothing said can or would be held against the author in a court of law, morals, social norms, tennis or any other court implied but not limited to, any meaning perceived from the word court.
Warning: Opinions herein contained are not even necessarily the author’s own.

AM NOT YOUR DADDY!!!!

Typical Nairobi lady: Boy meets Girl, Boy finds himself inexorably drawn to Girl and just when Boy is about to call the waiter and request her to keep the drinks coming, girl tries to sneak her miner fingers into boy’s wallet. Boy flag is immediately half mast. So saddening, Boy muses. A constant complaint from the fairer sex, gender doesn’t sound as good, is that we don’t treat them well. Here is an analogy I am sure you will all understand and comprehend, and if not, you are a live specimen of evolution over creation: Which pair of shoes do you treat better, the Prada shoes or the second-hand ulipoz? One is worn on special occasions, well polished or whatever it is you do with Prada shoes, I have many idiosyncrasies: one of them is not women or any fashion whatever, while the other goes to the bathroom, shared with friends and in general, treated rather shoddily? You DIGG!!!!!

Its common knowledge that we are facing hard economic times, but there are very few things I abhor more than a manipulative, self-serving creature is anyone who taints one of the few things I consider sacred, and that’s love. Don’t meet me at the bank then call me later to ask me to your pals and you as you paint the town red. You have had my number the whole week. You knew you would be going out, though you may not have settled on the coordinates just yet. Am bound to be curious, having no pet cat: why the sudden interest? I do know I can rest assured it has nothing to do with my heavier-than-usual wallet.

I prefer people who are straight shooters, literally and figuratively, or masters of subterfuge and intricate plans, ploys and string pulling. I believe in the power of imagination, of words unspoken and deeds done and over with. I don’t like anything I can see through, except of course lingerie; it’s not as stimulating and invigorating to the mind, and that what you want stimulated, and the other exhausted. Either tell me straight up this will only work as long as am in good financial health, in which case I will tell you what you already know, involving bolts, nuts and screwdrivers or do something noteworthy to make the otiose task of investing in a money-losing venture an easier pill to swallow and assuage my financial acumen as to the soundness of the madness. I expect value for money: An entertainer who has to entertain me, a meal has to sate me. See where am going with this? If not, my IQ waste and garbage filter has to be upgraded.

Who Is Your Daddy?

I’m the only one allowed to ask that question, and no, we are not just about to get X-rated (not any more than usual anyway). I do not understand how someone claiming to be mature and intelligent to boot is simply unable of solving simple arithmetic trivia. We are in the same class or job, am dependent on someone, at least officially, like you or make the same meagre salary as you do. How the fruit do you expect me to be your daddy or personal banker, picking up the tab after you? I don’t digress on the symbiotic relationship between finance and romance, but there is hell no way I’m paying your day-to-day expenses. Simply put: I’m not your keeper. As soon as you sign the prenuptial, start mailing me the bills; until then, I will take you out, but am not paying the rent for a premises I only occasionally use (when I sleep over: That does not sound any better).

I’m one of those who believe it’s wiser to invest in friends as compared to someone with whom I’m yet to know where I stand. If you are strongly inclined to the contrary, invest in drilling equipment or take a hard look at yourself in the mirror; if you can stand it, that is.

GET A BOUNCER

There are some women out there who somehow believe the man they are with is a cross between Jet Li and Jackie Chan, with the brain of a gorilla, ready to thump his chest and kill off anyone at her whim. They will pick fights with someone twice your size or a pack of men whose idea of fun is knocking out all your teeth, and expect you to stand up for her. Let’s get something straight: If I assess the situation and determine I will be fighting a losing battle, or my only option is my face hitting someone’s fist, I will not fight. It’s called common sense. There is a good reason adrenaline is called the fight or flight hormone, and only someone suicidal places a mate over survival, instead of burning some rubber soles. I can always get another mate: not so with my teeth or life.

Learn to fight your own battles, otherwise find someone willing to. My job description does not include being your personal bodyguard. I will not fight for you. Had I clubbed you on the head and dragged you to my cave, then it will be a different story.

HE JUST LOOKS OUT FOR ME

I am looking out for something alright, but it’s not you, but rather the ultimate opportunity. The only reason I will do nice things for anyone is because I expect something good in return. That’s the principle of cause and effect and fair remuneration. The only person who looks after your welfare simply from the goodness of their heart is your parent: do I look like we are related? Keep your end of the bargain otherwise, good luck in your life.

WHAT THE FRUIT

I once had the misfortune of trying to know someone (must I add carnally?), who could only tell me how various people who had dated her measured up to her father, and finally worked down the list to me (it was rather lengthy). Other than being very disturbing and being the kind stuff that induces lifetime trauma, is the knowledge that you simply cannot measure up: You did not give her life, wipe mucus off her nose, change her stinking diapers and all the other endearing stuff that dads do.

However, if you feel so strongly about your father, get a clone of him or date him. I have enough eish in my life without you adding emotional trauma and unrealistic expectations to the list. I will not be molded in your father’s cast, and if you won’t take me for me, I hear a walk is good for your heart and health: Just don’t forget to get lost on your way back. Over and Outta Here!!!

COLD SHOWERS AND SOUR GRAPES

THE GREY AREA
It’s GREY not GRAY. I leant the Queen’s English mate.
This the area where wrong and right merge, dark and light co-exist and nothing said can or would be held against the author in a court of law, morals, social norms, tennis or any other court implied but not limited to, any meaning perceived from the word court.
Warning: Opinions herein contained are not even necessarily the author’s own.

This is not a happy-me-time guide to showering and eating grapes.

There are some rules of the thumb that, if known by everyone, make relationships so easier to understand. Being my normal helpful self, you can thank me later, I try to break them down intellectually (I really put in that word for the heck of it).

Rule 1: If you can’t get what you want, want what you can get.

However, its has come to my knowledge that while this approach to dating solves one problem i.e. the Sour Grapes Syndrome, it creates an even more debilitating one: The Cold Shower Moment.

SOUR GRAPES

The Sour Grapes Syndrome can be put succinctly as the condition where something or someone you can’t have suddenly becomes revolting and nauseating, for no other reason but simply that you can’t get them.

You all remember the Kaka Sungura tales, one of the few classes where I actually paid attention, where he decided that the juicy fruits he had struggled so hard to get were sour anyway, (And to all those claiming they don’t: you didn’t know Oliver Twist or Harry Potter by then), and thus not worth the hassle or trouble of getting them and in fact, he was better off without them. It was with this tale on my mind that I had a moment of great clarity, the kind that inspired Da Vinci to draw a helicopter if I don’t come off as too self-conceited, I found a connection with the story and human relationships (laugh all you want, they called Da Vinci crazy too). Men suffer from it mildly, while most women have a fully blown epidemic.

This usually happens when you are sitting in a table and a friend notices this charming, sexy, alluring lady as she passes by (their own words), and not one to let an opportunity pass them by, approaches the lady. After what are clear indications that things aren’t going too well for the brother, he comes back to the table, both his mood and the perception of the lady changed. Now she is a stuck up bitch who enjoys torturing men with her assets and has a serious Michelin and Firestone production factory in her midsection real estate. Take a wild guess what his mood was like, and how much more fun your lunch just became, albeit at his expense.

Women are more vindictive, and it’s not beyond them to enquire if one is gay, for its simply not fathomable to her and is definitely against nature for a man to not be into her and be heterosexual.

COLD SHOWERS

If you happen to be one of those people who write budgets simply to fill up your notebook, then you definitely know this scenario: You lace up your shoes laces and hit the road, ostensibly to become lean and feat, but in actuality just preparing for the torture and psyching yourself to take that cold shower and if everything fails, to be just too sweaty to not bathe.

This is when you discover that your friend has a perception ability you were unaware of, usually when they describe their new hitch with words you didn’t know they knew. When they say they had a connection, it’s not about looks, it’s something deeper and my favourite, she’s beautiful on the inside (how did they see her inside?), or he just likes to monkey around.

Then you brace yourself and step into the shower, brain in full consolation mode, mentally running down the health benefits of taking one and its less malicious nature on the reproductive system. When the first jet of cold water hits you however, jolting you back from the self-delusion alter dimension, your body makes it know that it much prefers the warm water, screw the health benefits.

A Cold Shower Moment is when you decide you are better off single and very alone rather than with who you are currently stuck with (Stuck is the word), relationship benefits notwithstanding (assured intimacy, daily calls, weekly arguments).

That’s what relationships are made of, cold showers that jolt you in realizing you can do better, or someone better, and sour grapes for the better you wish you could do.

Hope I made your spirits soar.

What The Fruit

With all the technological and other forms of human advancement, you would think we have improved the human social paradigm with matching success but unfortunately, that’s not the case. I personally would like to see a radical change in male-female relationships.

Friends with benefits is a step in the right way, divorce is not.

This is sure to generate a lot of heat, so I am working on my asbestos suit called I DON’T CARE.