So, it’s been a while since I let off some steam. It’s been a very busy
‘end of year’ that I spend most of my weekends indoors. Under normal
circumstances, I am one to countdown the hours left to Friday’s five
O’clock before I go out.
This last weekend I was looking forward to spending some quality time
with my mum but the plan went kaput! It started with Friday when I
got home early from work and cooked some nice dinner for mum and I but for some
reason she had an impromptu class which led her to coming home late. Little did
I know that she had her whole weekend planned out and had no time for me
whatsoever.
On Saturday morning I was up by 7am. For the record, I am a
morning person. I can’t wake up after 7am unless I am ill. I’d rather
be up doing a lot of nothing than oversleep.
In an energetic spirit I went looking for my mum; probably have
breakfast with her but to my surprise she’d already left the house. This got me
panicky and I decided to call her.
‘Hi mum, kwani uko?’ I asked. ’Oh dear! I didn’t want to wake you. I
left for Maasai Mara. Are you okay? Mum asked. ‘I am. Have fun’ I answered.
Of course that’s all I could say. How could I possibly start explaining
that I was hoping to spend some time together? After all, she was party to my
‘exquisite plan’.
At that point I realised I shouldn’t rely on my mom’s reading my mind.
Well, she may understand me but she definitely wasn’t a psychic. Wish I
reasoned this way earlier. But then, I think 40 is the new 20. She undeniably
enjoys life more than I do.
I realised that it was me and my depressing weekend cycle, chores-
movies- eating- sleeping. Depressing. Thank heavens I had updated my movie
collection or I would have succumbed to boredom.
While bumming on the couch, the gate bell rang. On weekends I don’t
receive touch base visitors, unless they had communicated earlier. In a bid to
ignore, I curled myself under my duvet and kept watching my series. Whoever it
was relentless. They never stopped ringing and I had to go and check who it
was.
‘Njeri why are you taking so long to open the gate?’ It was my young
high-spirited neighbour. She’s always beaming with contagious excitement. Her
laughter is infectious. Now I felt guilty for trying to ignore her.
Undoubtedly, she’s much better company than coiling up on the sofa.
What I like most about Muthoni, are her endless stories. If she’s not
going on about her weekend escapades, it’s about her ‘situationships’ or the
way she needs to lose a few pounds when she was perfectly lean. She could talk
about how ugly you looked and you wouldn’t even get offended. You just have to
love her!
Of course this often reminded me how much I needed to lose a few pounds
especially around my waist area. That’s Muthoni for you.
This Saturday, Muthoni had a better package apart from her usual
stories. ‘So here is an idea. How about we go out with my friends. It will be
fun!’ she urged. Hesitation is not a word she was familiar with. When she wants
to speak her mind, she goes all the way in.
Evidently, it was a mission to rescue me from myself after witnessing my
bored state. The idea didn’t sound bad compared to being stuck up in the house
all weekend. ‘That should be great. I am actually very bored’, I said.
I don’t even know why I answered because Muthoni doesn’t take ‘NO’ for
an answer. When she asks something, it has to be done her way or no way.
7.00pm
Muthoni has really worked on my looks . I imagine she thought I looked too
old and I might embarrass her amongst her friends.
8.00pm
Her ‘esteemed’ friends arrive to pick us up. I get a bit jittery when
meeting new people. Fact is, new encounters can go either really good or really
bad.
On opening the gate, the sight of a sleek black Toyota Prado invites us
to the outside. ‘Lord Have Mercy!’ My mind could not help but sigh. For the
first time the massive juggernaut almost made our entrance look stunning.
‘So, who are your friends?’ I asked. I was obviously a bit anxious.
‘Girl ! Chill out! Let me take care of this. These guys are ‘eaze’ ‘she adds.
In the car were 3 “pretty” boys (no pun intended). I wish I could say men but
that would mean men around their mid 20’s are grandfathers. Never have I felt
so old in my life. The vehicle was filled up with loud ‘rap’ music, a genre I
spite by the virtue of being an old school hip hop fan.
‘Please keep it together’ I whispered to myself. I was briefly
introduced to the ’dudes’ which after I got into the car .I must confess, that
machine felt good inside. For a moment, nothing else seemed to matter. I was on
cloud nine, embracing the luxury in this four wheel drive.
Just when I was about to feel the groove, the guy next to me courteously offered me a ‘blunt’,
same way someone would pass you the salt at dinner. “Blunt” that’s what to call
cannabis to make it hip.
Jeez! I was shocked. Shocked is an understatement because I was
sickened, outraged and horrified. ‘Who are these people?’ my mind whispered.
I am more than glad to be cultured. Just because you don’t approve of
other people’s behaviour doesn’t give you the right to act out of line. ’No
thanks’ I said, trying my best to sound cool. Truth is no matter how much I
tried, I sounded like a boring aged mama trying to fit in. (Just in case you
know what I should have said post a comment).
You can imagine this was the beginning of my night. There was no doubt;
it was going to be a wild one. The whole marijuana vibe had caught me pants
down and I hoped I wouldn’t screw up again. ‘So, what’s your name?’ The same
guy asked. Considering the fact that I had just messed up, I worked hard to
engage my ‘swaggerific’ side. ‘Njeri’, I said. That’s the best I could come up
with. You should know how much this consumed my brain. I didn’t want to give my
first name (Beth) because I think it sounds dated and unattractive, at least
for them. My thinking was, they most probably encounter ‘gisty’ names
like Sheryl, Chantelle and Tyesha. Names that spell out pretty, sassy and young.
I can comfortably give myself a pat on the back. That, I would say was a
commendable move. I was starting to blend in, however this was cut short by a
choking smell from the weed smoke. Why on earth would someone comfortably smoke
marijuana in a car? Even cigarette smokers excuse themselves to puff up in open
air. I was really infuriated and perplexed by this guy’s behaviour, and that
was not it. He smoked one after the other loosing himself to a state of trance.
His eyes had turned blood shot and lazy. No offence, but I thought he was going
to die .At some point I felt like a mother who just lost her son to hard drugs.
Everyone else was rather relaxed. Clearly, it was a trend among ‘them niggas.’
Someone should have given me a memo on what I was going to encounter
that night. Apparently, we were supposed to go pick a pack of girls .I thought
the ratio was okay but I was told ’more women, more fun.’ Fingers crossed, I
hoped the ladies would be a bit descent but alas! They were as ratchet as
……(not found the word).Smoking their lungs out and drinking as though EABL had
been declared insolvent are among the list of things they engaged in. ’Where
are their mum’s?’ little Beth yelled.
I could have easily judged them, but my mind took me aback to a time
when I was a wild cat. They called me ‘the life of the party.’ It indeed was
just a phase they were going through. Sooner or later they would get tired of
all the hop-skip and jump and they would want to chill out.
At 10pm, I was exhausted. Not from dancing or having a goodtime,
but exposing my eyes to the unimaginable. I just wasn’t fitting in. As much as
it may be hard to admit, I am no longer that 18 year old who loved to party all
night. At my age, thou still young, I prefer going out, having descent liquor,
dance a bit and go home in good time. What I am not sure is did I enjoy life
too early or 22 is the new 35?
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