So the girl you have been eyeing for ages has finally accepted a sleepover and you have a feeling that this will be a good night. You had praised your kitchen skills on Whatsapp and she wants to taste your food. You will cook for her. So, you go to the market, or supermarket depending on where you are, and buy cooking stuff you don’t use in your bachelor pad, like carrots and cucumbers, garbage. You get ginger, dhania and pilipili hoho, too. If you are like me, the only malighafi(read spices) you normally use are salt, a small onion and tomatoes. Today you are stocked. It will be a hot dinner. You aim to impress the empress.
Your bachelor pad has only one bed, and you have a feeling that the kitchen won’t be the only hot room in the house tonight. You see, on Whatsapp, in your late night chats, you have started raunchy Truth or Dare games with raunchy details. You have this gut feeling that you have been blessed. Not for procreation purposes – she is not here for marriage. And you don’t want to return home ‘on a vehicle carrier in a box’ as your grandmother once said.
You will need condoms….. you know, just in case.
So after your shopping, you set out to look for the sheaths. That’s where trouble starts. You don’t buy these things like you buy potatoes. You have to sweat for it. As they say, good things rarely come easy.
So, you walk down the street, peeping into shops to see, one, if the good old packet is hung on the shelves and two if the shopkeeper is an approachable agemate. If you live in a small town, the shopkeepers are mostly women the age of your mother wearing glasses and kilemba. Such shopkeepers don’t stock condoms. It’s a sin. Your best bet is a chemist. So, you keep walking, looking for chemists.
|Assorted Lifestyle Condoms: Amazon|
Chemist 1 has a queue. There is no way you will queue, and in the full glare of the public, ask for the forbidden sachets. Pass.
Chemist 2 has more than one attendant. You can’t imagine walking in and whispering to the guy that you want Durex and he shouts to the lady. “Do we have Durex in stock?” To which she shouts back, “No! Tell him we have Trust Studded and Salama!”. And after you leave they will discuss you, anyway. Pass, again.
Chemist 3 has one, approachable guy. But there is an older guy there, eating stories with him. He has even been given a chair, and from the looks of it, he is not too sick to stand. He plans to stay for long. You kick an avocado seed in the street in frustration. Why do people go to talk with the pharmacy guy? These people are cursed.
Chemist 4. Voila! There is only one guy inside so you pull your hood to your eyes and walk in. You find him talking on the phone and he cheerfully lifts his index finger, to please wait ooone moment. You place your shopping paper bags on the floor and shuffle your feet impatiently. Then, just then, a cute girl from the neighbourhood walks in. There is no way you are buying condoms in her presence. You never know, she may be a potential. You ask for mosquito coil, and ABZ, for de-worming. “This elnino has come with too many mosquitoes”. You explain.
You start walking back the way you came. Popping your eyes into the chemists. There has been no improvement. You start trying to remember if you have any leftover CDs from previous sexcapedes. You have one piece of Trust, two pieces of Femiplan, one piece of those brown government condoms, and an empty packet of some Durex under the bed. From what she had said on Whatsapp, she doesn’t do the deed in the dark. Chucking brands upon brands of condoms will be suicidal.
You decide….kiumane. You walk into Chemist 2- it also has M-Pesa:
As the guy is perusing his M-Pesa book, you ask discretely. “Uko na CD gani?” He unashamedly turns and takes you through the entire wall of condoms like those Bata attendants showing you different shoes in a rack. You cut him short. “Give me 5 packets of Femiplan”Femiplan has 6 pieces per packet and with 30 condoms and a limited supply of partners, you know they will last a long time. You don’t want to go through this gruelling experience again.
You walk home, feeling like a Roman general who has just conquered the entire world.
Your guest arrives to a hot, saucy meal and when that time comes… it turns out it is that time of the month for her. You will not be using the condoms tonight, or anytime soon. You wail in agony.