Posts Tagged ‘gikuyu’

i am very romantic… i can show you – check this out. I come over to your place in my jalopy to pick you up, give you some bourgan villea flowers, walk you to my car and get it and wait patiently while you struggle with the door. eventually, i even lean over and give the door a jab and when it sends you sprawling i even yell pole and only snigger quietly as you pick yourself up and hop it.. as we drive, i romantically rub my hand against your knee as i change gears.

i take you to njuguna’s – an upmarket nyama choma joint if there ever was one – in lavington after all, right? i find us a discreete corner somewhere inside and after the smoke from the nearby jikos proves to be too much, i move us outside where we sit on logs across under the stars…

Wanjiku the barlady comes and gives me a kiss as a squeeze her ass and in a friendly manner ask us what we shall have. I order a very well done rump steak with assorted bone marrow (Muguu choma) and as a starter, some chicken kidney and other assorted bitings…for drinks i order a Tusker (what else) and for you i order a soda kingfisher (you are a girl!)

We have some conversation where i describe the problems I have been having with my jalopy, my pigs especially the process of assisting one’s birthing and other animals that I have in my kashamba (actually 770 acres of prime highland), my last drinking escapade with my mates and others.

It is as I mention my friends and others that Muturi my close pal comes over with his ka-ravle (ka-lovely) and so does Kachamba and his and they of course join us.

The meat comes as we are enjoying the meal and the conversation which has gone into many areas from Wanjiku’s endowed bossom to kibaki and that other one – no one ever says raila – and we dig in with gusto. I keep asking you why you are so quiet before jabbing you in the ribs and joking at how sexy you look when you are quiet like that – to the hearty amusement of everyone there.

We leave at your urging and we drive you home. I am feeling quite amorous and enquire whether we should stop somewhere and relax a while “I know a good rodging” and I don’t understand why you are so emphatic with the no. I guess you have to be at work early or you are playing hard to get.

We get to your house and i lean over for a kiss. you move away rather fast so i am forced to place it on your bossom. not bad. you hastily get out of the car and promise we’ll talk tomorrow and I understand. Your father must be kali.

I put the toothpick in my mouth and drive away with a smile on my face leaving you in the dark fumbling with the chain on your gate.

Now, my dear Esther, can you now fail to call me romantic?

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