A tale of Kworne, KaRezo and a Taxi bambite ...The Continuation

This is the continuation of this story.

The chips was fungain herself for Nutty Martz. Who was I to refuse the lassie?

Baambite, bambaaaaiiiiiite! [grandpa Boondocks voice] as I joined her at the back of the cab.

There and then commenced a heavy and intense petting session between one NuttyMartz and Ms Taxi Bambite with occasional ad libs and subtitles from Mr. Taxi man urging me on.

"Mzee, hapo haujashika yeye vizuri"

"Buda bana, songa kiasi niwaone vizuri" SMDH.

As we leave the petrol station, Mr. Taxi man, who i must say deserves a world's best wingman award, proceeds to suggest that he drops me off first, before dropping Taxi Bambite. He knowingly winks at me whilst saying this. :-D.  /* Air fist bump */

We grunt in the affirmative amidst the  sloppy rureme's (aks your kuyo pals what that means and wipe that blank look off your face.)

So we reach the NuttyDigz and I try to convince Taxi Bambite how we need to relocate from the taxi, and commence with the encore to this little encounter, youknowwhaaraamsaayin. This is the response I get...!

"Sweety, this night is gonna be so much better if it just ends now. Si you give me your number, and I'll call you, Mr stranger man. This was fuuuun!"

What! I could almost hear Nutty junior yell out.

And with that she throws me a wink, blows me a kiss and slams the door shut.

"No! wait, wait!", I frantically yell out my number as the now cockblocking driver drives off, whilst giving me a 'woiye boss' look. Kubaaff!

2 minutes later, she gives me a flashback.

I save her in my phone. As Taxi.

Sigh!

A tale of Kworne, KaRezo and a Taxi bambite

Sometimes I reminisce on some of the crazy shenanigans which happen in my raving life and SMDH. #slapmyself then SMDH again. This is why I've decided to start sharing some of the more bizarre and entertaining ones.

This one is called. A tale of Kworne, KaRezo and a Taxi bambite.

Opening Scene 1 : Kworne

Me, my 6 6" huge pal (lets call him N-Tall) and a bambite (lets call her Coupe) - (And no, dont ask me why son) are catching a coupla cold froths in the best local in the world -Kworne, where Nicko the Butcherman always serves up a mean dry fry ugali and teargas or liver choma coupled up with some of the best Kachumbari this side of the Nairobi, every weekend. Eeh,i guess that explains my slightly(?) protruding belly. *wry grin*

The froths are flowing freely, ARSEnALL are being thrashed by the Spurs, the batoto bakoli bana batako bakubwa tunes (the kind played in the mchele capital of nairobi - simmers)are playing gently in the background-,and a bit of friendly slicing between N-Tall and me for Coupe's attention is going on. Fine way to spend a Saturday nite.No?

At some point in the night, the 3 of us are stupid drunk, the stupid part being aptly emphasized by Coupe who has by now broken 2 glasses and is on the verge of a serious blackout. She must have noticed the wolfish demeanor of one N-Tall ( I plead the 5th on this) coz she suddenly decides she wants to bounce. She asks me to sindikisha her to her mots at which point i throw N-Tall a triumphant wicked 'I got this son' grin.

Coupe is uko staggering staggering kiasi, of course being the perfect 'gentleman' i wrap my hand around her waist so she doesn't fall whilst squeezing her ever so lightly, [ okay okay quite tightly ]

*quick glance to the readers. Wink*.

No sooner have we reached her car than an sms checks in. 'AAArgh msee...umecheza chafu hapo. Usiniache bana!!' . LOL. N-Tall is already grumbling at the turn of events. LOL.

In her car, we tactfully proceed to exchange implied 'funga nikufunge' anecdotes which are frustratingly not ending up anywhere.

"Ati Ohh am so high dont know if i can make it home"

"Ati ooh, Ama si u just lala in my digz"

"Ati noo...i have to lala my place, ama si u drive and drop me?"

blah blah. Am sure yall know that mating dance that happens right before FT (*expletive* Time) where both of you are pretending you're not aware of what's about to go down.

10 more minutes of such exchanges and I realize this is heading nowhere. The only action that has happened so far is some hurriedly stolen kisses and boob grabs. Form 2 kind of stuff. Dammit! I proceed to allow Coupe to bounce. Dammit!

Depressed, I head back to Kworne where N-Tall quickly proceeds to unleash a hearty malicious kicheko at how my funga mission has failed. And this from a chic whom as he is quick to remind me, I have previously claimed has supposedly tried to sausage funga me for some time. Dammit!

Am extremely high, and given the turn of events, am adamant this nite is not going to end now. Haraka upesi, I quickly decide to head to Rezorus westlands. Chips funga hotspot of nairobi. 'Kadunga eh, kadunga eh' is on virtual repeat in my head by now.

N-Tall has already figured out his swag is at an all time low and might as well call it a day. Ok. Screw u nigga, me naenda bado.

Scene 2. Rezorus

20 min later, mimi huyo entrance ya KaRezo.

"Ah vipi Mustafa..long time!"

I pay homage to the main Pascal-face-control at Rez and enter with mad syke. I quickly chapa a lap of honor in search of a weakened prey [Cue discovery channel and a crippled wildebeest that has just escaped a croc's death-grip]

Unfortunately, the talent thronging KaRezo is the Stoke City kind and not exquisite Barcelona FC. Dammit! Seems I will have to do with what's available. Time to put on Beer goggles.

Scene 3. KaRezo. Time 1:45

The only bambite (weakened prey) that am so far hounding has quickly 'invoiced' me  (as one Milonaire would say) a cool sh600 worth of tequila, with no sign of getting inebriated any time soon.

Blunder no. 1. I've already forgotten my long tested, battle proven mantra of  ' if 2 tequila's down you ain't got a smooch yet, it's time to cut your losses son.'   

However, said bambite is in some extremely tight, barely there shorts that are tightly holding on to dear life around her voluptuous cianda. Ngai! I decide there's also a saying which states, Simba mwenda pole ndio mla nyama. Haya mr Bartender man, 2 more tequila's.

Current invoice value sh.900. Current balance sheet shows liquid assets have rapidly deteriorated to sh800. This throw money at the issue and hope to fix it approach better work, or its gonna be a PALMela and her 5 lotion-ed friends night.

Scene 3. A tale of a missing Bambite. Time 2:30am.

Booty shorts bambite has been missing for the past 10min dammit! I stagger around the club frantically (in my head carrying a sawed off short gun) looking for her. Yap! she has successfully ducked!! Dammit! Wasichana wa nairobi. NKT!

Rifling through my wallet reveals liquid asset value currently stands at a measly sh 450. I'll be forced to declare a loss to my shareholders [nuts] for the night just ended. *Groan. Images of a greasy PALMela and her entourage play maliciously in my head.*

Oh well. Hiyo ni ukimwa nimeepuka i console myself. I head to a taxi outside and negotiate with the cab driver. Liquid asset value immediately drops to sh50 after agreeing on the fare. Haya twende basi. Kesho ni siku pia.

As we are driving up Electric Avenue, i decide on one last encore. Spotting a tights-clad bambite on her way to a jav, I roll down the window and unleash....

"Bambite kuja nikupe lift na hii cab. Mi nimsee poa"

*Glance to the readers.Double wink*

Bambite gives me a ' Dude, you can't be serious' look over, and proceeds to walk off.  Oh well, her loss not mine. I promptly proceed to black out in the cab after issuing directions to my digs, to Mr. Cabman.

Scene 4. Taxi Funga.

5 min later, i sense the cab stopping and groggily wake up.

"ALa tuko wapi tena. Huku si home", i yell at the cabman.

A quick glance reveals we are at Oil Libya Westy. Fuel stop. Cab driver looks at me with a naughty smile and beckons me with his hand to look behind at the back seat.

Shock shock! The bambite i had just hollered at a few minutes back is seated there and batting her eyelids in a manner associated with the intricate principles of 'chips fungain 101'. Hii nairobi iko na mambo i tell you.!!

Apparently, immediately i had dozed off, Mr. cab man had proceeded to trail and convince her that if she rode along with us, he would charge her much less upto her place, thats if we dutched the cab fare. 5 thumbs up for wingman cabman.

With a naughty smile, bambite drawls..

"Ati ulikuwa unasema aje? Si ucome hapa nyuma unishow."

There and then, i know the night is not yet ended by a long shot.... :-D