Story for another day

story for another dayLet’s leave seamless to communication services like the internet. Have you ever met a seamless lady? This is a woman who you don’t know where what starts and what ends. Her gut is in competition with her butt. She is curvy but not in the essence you expect, the coca-cola bottle is not her, she is much like the roto tank. Her shape can be compared to an inverse triangle broad to the shoulders and chiseled as you go down. Tight clothes do nothing for her physique other than accentuate the unsightliness – the funny thing is she always wears the tight clothes.

I met one a few months ago; I am publishing this now because I feel safe. I had this fear that she would find me and sit on me, you know, like Rikishi. I was at a party and as usual I was drunk, I was not the “I am rich” type of drunk I was more of “Drunk? Who? Me? No fucking way. Top me up” kind of drunk. When you’re this drunk you’re two shots away from a black out and waking up with one leg dangling on the arm rest with your neck tilted at an unnatural angle. Your phone is usually lying on the floor, miraculously without a cracked screen but mid chat with probably a pissed off girlfriend. You will wake up to “Hey?” “Are you there” “Did you fall asleep?” “Goodnight” “Have fun with those hoes” texts and probably three missed calls. You won’t reply because your head is heavier than a tonne of sand on Jupiter and you’re having the alcohol version of morning sickness.

I wish I woke up to that, but no, fate had it that I woke up in a nice warm bed with cream sheets and a red duvet. My head wasn’t all that heavy I think I might have taken a few painkillers before blacking out. There was something heavy on my shoulders and I figured it was the duvet so I tried shaking it off but it kept coming back. It hit me that I was sharing the bed with someone. You know that slow turn you do as if by turning slowly you give the other person a chance to metamorph into someone beautiful? It doesn’t work, rip it off like a band aid, and face your fears. Lying next to me was this mammoth of a woman. Her size didn’t shock me, what shocked me was my size – I am a little guy shame on her for carrying me to bed. I would’ve been perfectly happy passed out on the cold floor with pneumonia or something. A man just can’t catch pneumonia without a big girl carrying them off to bed – what is this world coming to.

Have you ever tried sneaking out of bed before? Trying not to wake the person sleeping next to you? I can imagine it was probably your girlfriend and you were headed into the kitchen to surprise her with breakfast in bed. She probably heard you and let you go because she was hungry and she smiled to herself when she heard you cracking those eggs open. You probably went back with a full tray and after they devoured it you did your own devouring and you lived happily ever after until the girl you danced with at the party comes to knock at your door saying she needs money for P2 which she shouts for the hearing convenience of anyone in a 1oKM radius. I didn’t sneak out of bed I rushed out of it – I was scared for my life. All she needed to do was roll over having a bad dream and suddenly I’d be replacing chapattis on the things to sit on list. Some people hit rock bottom and decide to change only my bottom was that of a roto tank. If I had to use a fruit to describe her I would say a potato, I know a potato is not a fruit but that is kind of my point.

She looked like the Michelin mascot save that the mascot is cute. Hell, with all those tires she could pass for a Michelin display stand. Jumping out of bed I noticed I had my clothes on, I took that as a good sign and I begun feeling the rest of my body just in case you know, I came across a violation. There was none and I was happy to head out of the door shoes in hand and ready to do the run of shame. Yes, I would run, there was no way she could catch me – not unless she fell and decided to put those tires to good use. Then it hit me, I did not have my phone. I was not going to leave it behind in god-knows whose room there are some things you just do not do. So I begun looking for it, slowly at first then frantically after I realized I could not find it anywhere. Time was running out and I could feel the bed shake as she turned every now and then – I could not let her wake up and find me there. But still my phone was nowhere in sight and I did what any normal person with an amazing smart phone does, I woke her up. I’m sorry phone but it wasn’t worth you. She woke up with a semi-grin smiling for god-knows what reason, maybe I smelt like butter (that was the last time I used the cocoa butter scented Vaseline), and she said good morning. If it was one of those I am ashamed of myself, how did this happen, please go away kind of good mornings I would’ve gone to church that same day and turned over a new leaf but hers was buttered with sugary names like sweetie and pie and honey. Actually come to think of it maybe she was dropping breakfast hints. I asked for my phone and she pulls it out from under her pillow, HER PILLOW! Smart move though, I would’ve left that house without my shoes God-knows I’ve partied too hard a few times and lost those, but never my phone. She got up wrapping the bed sheet around her body which looked like a leso when around her (she’s that huge). I’m still trying to come to terms that she was in the nude the whole time.

She said something about breakfast but I feared for my life. What if I didn’t make enough and she decided to eat me too? I didn’t dare ask about the previous night because some questions are better left unanswered. I asked for my phone in the most polite way possible and even mentioned that it had the hello food app just in case she wanted us to order from a restaurant, it worked like a charm. I left the room for decencies sake, my decency, some things you cannot un-see. I peeped out of the window like a prisoner trying to figure out where in gods-name I was. You can imagine the relief when I found out I was in the same building that the party was hosted. I made some half baked excuse about going to help with clean-up and left the house dashing like a mad man coated in honey running away from a bee-hive. I got home, safely, and just as I was about to forget about events she calls. It didn’t hit me that she might have saved my number when she had my phone. It was weeks on weeks of pointless conversation and her sending me pictures of herself. Have you ever seen a rim commercial? Now have you ever seen a rim commercial where the tire was dressed in black tights and a red top? Agony doesn’t begin to describe it.

Why am I writing this now? Well, I told you I feel safe. She went to the home of the brave and the free. Some of you might think she will come back but those of you that do are clueless. You see in the land of milk and honey there isn’t just milk and honey, there’s McDonalds too and the big mac. By the time she gets on a plane back she will be so huge she will pose a flight risk and no airline will want to transport her here. So you see; I am safe. In the eventuality that she does come back (I am guessing she will use Kenya Airways who will not mind her seen as they are currently running losses and any extra coin is precious) that then would be a story for another day.

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