White
Rabbit! That is a phrase one utters when a new month commences. Then you are
assured of good luck throughout the duration of that month. I did it shortly
after mid night as September sashayed away and let me just say my name being mentioned
on the morning radio Breakfast Show with a lady I religiously admire just because
of a humorous traffic update I sent set the bar for October.
September had its fair share of intrigues. It
was great being out of the country for a substantive part of that month. Lord
Have Mercy, the things I experienced! *Fans himself*. Okay, unclench, it was
just some space I needed to go rethink and reinvent my inane life. No foreign
d!ck went on and I messed up our only chance of seeing some Northern wee wee in the WC that Jamleck (my best
friend in the scene) had struggled so hard for us to be offered in his alleged
research on Habesha circumcision inquiries.
Further, how he’s not in prison for publicly ogling at FINE men in the streets
of a foreign country is still beyond me. Maybe that was the idea. C.D.R (formerly
T.S.R) will tackle this and more in a three part series that will run in the course
this month.
Topped from any
position?
Arsenal
fans have been ridiculing the champions just because the odds have been in
their favour recently. In fact, one of you texted me saying that the moment Sir
Alex left, Man U allowed itself to be topped
from any position. Well he’s a gunner. A versatile one, so he says. I think he
was horny at the time but I’m still trying to figure out the best way to
respond to him because using my thumb theory, he falls short of the gunner
threshold. C’mon we’ve all held bigger Bic lighters before right?
The bar has been set
I’ll
confess I’m a fanatic of the Klaine
movement. Fans (and haters alike) of the American series Glee kind of get my
drift based on the recent developments. Congratulations Ryan Murphy. You just
made it thorny for some men to ever get into monogamy! If you are a zega man
and believe in love and such other pursuits, I hate to break it to you. The
scale has just been tipped. I can’t wait for the last article this month where
I’ll give you some dossier on some alien men.When you have a moment, do play this clip. I’ve equally endeavored
to transcribe a verbatim of it for you just below it of course with some very
minor editing to suit my purposes:
Blaine:
We met right here. I took this man’s hand and we ran down that hallway. And for
those of you that know me. I’m not in the habit of taking hands of people I’ve never
met before but I think that my soul knew something that my mind and body didn’t
know yet. It knew that our hands were meant to hold each other, fearlessly and
forever; which is why it’s never really felt like I’ve been getting to know
you, it’s always felt like I was remembering you from something. As if in every
lifetime that you and I have lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and
fall in love all over again, over and over for eternity. And I just feel so lucky
that I found you so soon in this lifetime because all I want to do, all I've ever
wanted to do is spend my life loving you. So Kurt Hummel Cole, my amazing
friend, my one true love, will you marry me?
Me:#iDie
Any
men who can beat that? *Looks around* I didn’t think so. I'll see you on Tuesday, kisses!
Sections of the article you are about to read may contain coarse,
violent and sexually suggestive language. Reader discretion is advised.
‘I'd like to take a few seconds to appreciate all the tall, attractive,
athletic guys out there: You’re one of the reasons I’m convinced being gay was
my birth right, well done!’ – C. Mutahi.
The Kasarani Stadium is a blend of
blue, green and white going by the garb fans have donned in support of their
teams this afternoon. I grudgingly allow Samson (hereinafter referred to as
Sam) to mount the hand woven straw hat with the inscription “Nyathi Sirkal Ok Mul” (The Government’s
baby is untouchable) on my head. He beams like it’s some sort of achievement. The things we do for men! I soon learn
it is locally referred to as an Othith
hat. I put on my stunners lest one of my colleagues or men from my past sees me
here - It’s bad for my ratings you know - but with the hat’s green strands
dangling ridiculously making me look like a clown, I decide to remove the
glasses. The referee blows his whistle to signify the beginning of the second
half of the match. The GOR Mahia/Sirkal players tackle the ball skillfully
across the Stadium’s field towards the goal post but the Ingwe/AFC team in
swift retaliation save themselves from a goal making some women in blue and
white striped tops shirts ululate at the far corner of our row. Sam is clad
in a black T-Shirt written ‘Luo Inside’
with a full simulated logo typical of Intel products. The shirt accentuates his
broad masculine chest that is a subject of regular workout. His right bicep
protrudes from the sleeve of the T-shirt almost revealing his barbed wire ink.
He reeks of a musky manly scent in an environment that is largely full of
sweaty scents. Off the record: I know I
have been told in the past Mwanaume ni
Jasho na Madeni (A man is sweat and debts). It is in those moments I have
always walked away leaving the whiff of my designer perfume praying to Jesus
that a good man should find these people and give them a talk on foul smell.
I’ve pitied their girl/boy friends (if they even have any). In the past we’ve
agreed that a zega man cannot be black, gay and poor. Now throw in foul smell,
bad attitude and being broke in there! Make up your mind and pick a worthy cause!
That aside, when my concentration is back from the loud Ingwe girls to the pitch, a GOR Mahia fan donning a green wig and
the back of his green T-shirt written “Wuod
K’Opere” has stood up in front of me blocking my view. I seek Sam’s
attention and he straight away bends to hear me.
‘Babe, I can’t see. He’s blocking my view.’
I whisper to him. He takes a deep breath and calls him by the name on his shirt
requesting him to sit down as I’m also trying to watch the match.
“Leave
me alone Faggot!” He
retorts studying Sam intently. Sam removes his left hand that was resting behind
my back and leans forward.
“What
did you call me again?”
An infuriated Sam asks.
“You
heard me.” He responds
matter-of-factly.
He’s a very dark, petite young man but
with a developed body frame. He has marks on his face that I immediately
suspect are from bar brawls or regular violence but were he to take his life a
bit more seriously he’d almost be handsome.
“Now listen to me you motherfucker. Just
because you love D!ck doesn’t mean the rest of us are in your cock sucking
business. Who do you think you are, eh? Now you better sit your ass down
because I have no time to argue with people who can’t think beyond the length
of their d!cks or depths of their assholes for a game I’ve paid for!” Sam
responds to him making me and the other fans within earshot be like:
He’s formed a fist and wants to make
his way to where Sam and I are seated. Sam stands in an instant and grabs the
collar of his neck with his sturdy right hand. I reach out for his left arm urging
him to leave him alone. He’s breathing fire. Sam’s tall and muscular frame is
intimidating and soon everyone around us urges him to leave the boy alone
citing that he’s always like that. Sam looks at my direction and reconsiders
shoving the vulnerable thing aside making him topple over but one of his
friends grabs him and urges Sam to spare him. Sam (still incensed) takes his
seat. No sooner has he sat down than AFC scores an allegedly disputed goal. Everything
happens so fast that the whole stadium is soon in a mess with bottles flying
all over the place and women screaming. Sam urges me to follow him. Everyone is
trying to make their way down the terraces to the field. ‘Take
my hand!’’ He says to me.
I’m still processing the just ended episode of K’Opere’s faggot incident but before I can tell him that it would look
awkward, he’s grabbed me by my shoulder and urges me to run with him with our
heads slightly low. It’s at that point I realize it was an order not a request.
I oblige until we get to the car. In the far distance, I can still hear teargas
canister blasts that are typical in Nairobi’s downtown streets at dusk when the
County Council askaris (officers) are
engaged in running battles with hawkers. There are also chants in Dholuo but
the voices are off key. My heart is racing. Since he drives a stick, his left
hand occasionally pats my right thigh when he’s changing gears. It’s a very quiet
drive back to the city centre.
*******
Behind The Scenes
1. I’ve
been watching the NEWS lately and there are a few things that I can’t help but
comment on. No, I won’t talk about the 14-year old who gave birth to triplets
the other day for obvious reasons (my recent virginity loss confessions) plus
she’s covered under Article 43(3) of the constitution. However these two men
who signed an agreement to share one woman is an intriguingly debatable issue.
I'm sure this may not be a first but just because it’s been highlighted, it
becomes a controversy. You should see the agreement I once drafted with an Ex.
to ensure our roles in the relationship were distinctly spelt out with no surprises.
It even had a whole section on whose responsibility it was to ensure that
protection and lubricant was available, money and even a clause on terminating
the relationship. It was our own version of Christian Grey and Anastasia
Steele’s Dominant/Submissive contract in E.L James’ Fifty Shades of Grey. One of the men opined, ‘I love her for real and I was ready to do anything for her even if it
meant sharing her with another man.’ He has since lost his job as a butcher
and has gone into hiding citing threats to his life. A lawyer in a press
interview said that polyandry is more abnormal than illegal since the Laws that
govern marriage in Kenya do not expressly forbid it. Another counsel says that
if the parties involved are able to show that polyandry has been their custom
then it’s fine but added that he doesn’t know of any African community that
does that. I endeavored to look at Article 45(5)(b) of the Constitution which if
paraphrased say that marriage can be recognized if it follows a set of
traditions, religious practices, personal or family law as long as those
practices do not violate the law. Of course the local community in their usual
element like their Homophobic counterparts responded harshly saying that they
should be taken to court. Words like uncouth, untraditional, unbiblical and
against the holy books were also cited! Okay, I shall pause here and in my own version
try to throw my weight behind Jesuit Priest Luigi Taparelli’s concept of social
justice. Kenya is a society where it’s largely favorable to the men folk to
marry as many wives as they can without being questioned. We live in times
women competently run for the same jobs as men, drive machines that were
once considered male so now that one of them has entered into a contract with two
men isn’t it a tenet of social equality? I am not a cynic. Maybe I’ve finally found
my call to be a moral nihilist but I personally don’t see the harm now that the
tables have changed. It’s like the culturally accepted marriage between women
in some Kenyan communities.Point a gun
into my head, choke me with D!ck even but I’m still convinced that it is gay in
so many levels then you still end up telling me that being gay is a white man
thing? It’s unnatural in the African community? Kindly school me some more.
2. On Hannah
Montana Miley Cyrus, I’m depressed. Only time will tell whether she wins me
back in the fold. Bitch doesn’t even have an a** but twerked her way into emphasizing her stardom a few days ago
making the VMA’s literally about her. This event ladies and gentlemen is where
Britney Spears and Madonna shared a passionate girl to girl smooch a decade
ago. I’ve been tempted to share the picture/video but since I’m a McGill
noticee person with vested interests in Nashville, Tennessee and re-blogged on
an international level including the Vatican (I’m sure some holy father is praying for me and my lost soul), I
abandon that thought. And what's with sticking out her tongue like some animal on heat? So grinding on
Robin Thicke’s frontal is now some sort of trophy? Miley may be smiling
all the way to the bank but there are things famous people do in the moment and
have to live with them forever. MJ much? However, I admit I finally learnt a
new word this week: Twerk. To
those at sea like me, it’s locally referred to as Bend Over. In gay circles,
that is something you only do in the confines of a thoroughly secured room,
your eyes tightly shut waiting for it
to go in. Oops! TMI.
3. On
Tuesday during my coffee break, I was meeting my friend Sage just a few blocks from
the office to be introduced to his new boyfriend. Whoa! Aren’t those two in love
(or lust)! I must salute him on one thing. He always has taste when it comes to
men. Ever met one of those guys – you are definitely hotter than them – but they
are just intimidating with their refined personality and presence? No? Once
again I got asked why the F*** a pretty thing like me is still single?
Thankfully, someone’s phone buzzed and by the time he came back I’d
successfully steered the conversation to how skillfully carrot cakes in this
place are done. Is it just me or what’s with lovebirds wanting everyone to join
then in that emotional co-dependent shitstorm we call relationships!
*******
I make
a call as I walk into the 20th Century plaza that houses IMAX Cinema
at about a quarter to six in the evening. ‘I’m downstairs, coming up shortly.’ I
say. I’m dressed in a white T-shirt and a pair of denim nudie pants I bought at
Gikomba Market sometime back on
impulse when looking for biking accessories. What? I’m a good boy besides why
leave something that accentuates my butt and still makes me look decent? I take
the left turn; briefly look at the movie poster along the stairs until I reach the
busy ticketing and waiting area. I look around. Mmm! Nairobi has fine men! I finally locate him at the counter paying
for the tickets. He’s in a purple striped shirt tucked into some fitting Khaki
pants that show his bubble butt. I stand a few meters behind him until he’s
done. He turns scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t notice me immediately until I
block his way. He raises his head. The top two buttons on his Daniel Hechter
shirt are open showing little of his chest hair. His sharp eye locks with mine
instantly before he grabs me into a hug (Not the dude hug). As always, he
smells heavenly! He looks at his watch and suggests we go get some popcorn. I’m
loosely carrying a pullover just in case it gets chilly later. A slim teenage
boy rushes past me hitting my hand making the pullover fall. He apologizes
profusely as he bends to pick it for me. ‘Watch
where you going!’ Sam reprimands him as he grabs it from him. Poor thing. He doesn’t
hand it back to me but hurls it on his broad shoulder before he starts cruising
me ‘You look different, as in good different.
We should be meeting more on weekends when you are not all official and bossy.
I barely recognized you!” He says. “Thanks
babe.” I supply giggling like a teenage girl who’s just been asked out by
the college hunk on a Prom date.
We walk into the dimly lit cinema hall. He
leads the way. At some point just after the ramp we are given 3D (where D is
just for Dimension and not what some of you were thinking) glasses. I casually
put them on when I trip nearly losing my balance. I remove them to avoid
further embarrassment and humbly follow my leader up the flight of stairs. We sit almost at the rear.
There are previews running. I put on my glasses but nothing seems to be
working. Sam is trying hard to suppress a laugh but he fails miserably. See, in as much as I’m
all old, cultured and opinionated, I’m still a boy when it comes to new things.
For instance the first time I boarded a plane. I was so fidgety struggling to
catch views from the window until the gentleman seated on the window seat next to
me offered to swap seats to my advantage and offer some brief class on what
happens that thousands of feet high. So being my first time to watch a 3D
flick, you can imagine my agony. My Aha
moment was when a lady’s voice finally directed the audience to put on their 3D
glasses. Wooooow! I muttered to
myself grinning from ear to ear as I sipped my chilled bottle of Sparletta. Sam
was busy munching away his popcorn and occasionally leaned over to ask me
whether I was comfortable. The only thing I think we were missing was a Maasai Shuka at least to cover our legs
as we secretly hold hands underneath. Isn't that what happens in movies?
Soon the movie started. It was a Sci-Fi
flick, lots of violence no nudity though except one of those forced kisses.
I’d had some very wild hopes on watching nudity in 3D. Be that as it may, I
felt like I was in a totally different universe. What were inventors of 3D high
on? Can I buy these glasses for my Tely at home? Can I watch NEWS in 3D e.g.
feel like I’m seated next to Dan Mwangi as he reads business News? (Please don’t
tell him. From my online stalking, I think he’s a devout Christian) The Lady
seated on my right kept fidgeting and shouting Oh My! Like she was experiencing an orgasm especially when missiles
were coming right to our faces! At some point I removed the glasses and the
screen was plainly blurry. Even my screen at home would give this a run. It was
just funny seeing the way people’s heads kept tossing and leaning uniformly
like they were being remote controlled. Let me just say at the end of the
evening, I was one technology wiser. I think
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
He asks me as we are walking out of the cinema hall (He’s still dangling my
sweater). My smirk sells me as I respond to him. “Watch out for that step.” He warns. Once we’ve dropped the glasses
at the container outside, we run into one of his friends who’s expecting
someone. He maintains a solid handshake with this bespectacled guy and
introduces me. My heart is at rest. No competition here. “Would you like some ice cream Cole?” He asks. I’m feeling shy
because this new friend of his hasn’t been considered. “I won’t mind.” I respond in the usual Mutahi modesty. He heads to
the ice cream bar leaving us standing awkwardly with his friend. “So, Cole what is it that you do?” The stranger asks me. “I’m an ICT consultant.” I reply. “Oh a Techie I see. I’m an Auditor with…”.
He confidently tells me. “Sweet, it’s my
pleasure to meet you.” I tell him. Sam is back holding two cups of ice
cream. He hastens the conversation between him and his Deloitte friend and we
are soon on our way outside. ‘Put on your
sweater, it’s chilly’. He says handing it over to me.
Just
to bring you up to speed. Remember our Monday conversation on Journeys? Well,
unlike me Sam is openly out to his family. Yap. His mother accepted him after a
period of deep soul searching. During that time he had had to crash at his best friend’s digs. His dad passed on when he’d just finished university. His
sister, the only other surviving sibling is a pretty girl who thinks I’m cute
and witty - well, that’s according to Sam ever since we met for a quick evening
catch up and she had to come pick her set of house keys from Sam. I even recall after our first date meeting, I’d
urged him to drop me at Prestige, off Ngong Road to catch a cab home. He didn’t
heed to my request saying that his father had raised him with strict
instructions that in case he picks his girlfriend, he has to ensure that she’s
dropped where she was picked. No derailments. I’d raised my eyebrows in protest
saying I wasn’t a girl. Of course at the time the departed man never knew his
son had no interest in women. But I’ve since got on with the program. Am I his
boyfriend? No.
My decisions when it comes to men are largely not informed. There was this time I left
town on Saturday Sunday at 1a.m. after a great night clubbing and travelled
through three counties with a man (later turned boyfriend) I’d just met the day
before just to get laid? Then there’s my first and probably longest
relationship. Griffin. High School classmate turned sweetheart that spilled
post High School. He was all macho and the face of all and sundry evil deeds in
school. Being seen with him made my life worthwhile, Oh! *Pats his chest with
closed eyes* Have I even told you of my first date in a Mosque? I’m not so out
there but Oh Boy, haven’t I done some pretty disturbing things for my time! Don't even give me that look, I'm not exactly a virgin! These and more are some of the more personal and intimate conversations we’ll
be sharing in the remaining seven months on T.S.R babies. I have since decided to
continue supporting my favorite club MUFC (where C is for Champions) from the
confines of my house or the stools of Club Bettyz. I know I love living on the
edge but I will never again be seen at a Sirkal studded stadium. It’s just
dangerous when you are loyal to a team that riots when they lose, rampage when
they draw and revel destructively when they win after paying homage to the late
Tom Mboya’s statue on Moi Avenue. *Waits for insults*
*******
I
am licking my ice cream seductively. Sam occasionally steals glances my
direction and shifts his concentration back on the road. I know I’m giving him problems because
we have a past with ice cream. I look outside and I’ve no idea where we are
going but then he’d said we’ll do a quick dinner before he drops me home. He
makes a series of turns and stops at a huge black gate. The gate is opened by a
tall uniformed gentleman whose face I can’t make out due to the cap he’s putting on
revealing a finely built residential complex. Must be one of his friends. I think to myself. The compound is very
quiet and serene with crickets whistling in the distance. Feels homely. Once we enter the place, I sense it’s deserted.
We walk through the hallway into a spacious and brightly lit living room
playing some soft jazz. I start scanning the portraits and wall hangings when a
beautiful African woman with a polished accent greets and hugs Sam. I’m
confused. So he’s married? He
responds to the embrace and when they are done the lady looks at Sam
expectantly waiting for him to introduce his guest. “Mum, this is my friend Cole.”He says.
‘Show me the man you honor, and I will know what kind of man you
are.’ - Thomas Carlyle.
Last
week after I left T.S.R I went to my college to defend my research project.
Guess what? It was successful and I do hope for a D a.k.a Distinction. I did
mention it screwed my brains out for 2 months or so, right? Well, that’s done
and since I’m seeking advice from the Vanderbilt hunk, I feel I’m on the right
track. Anyway, that’s beside the point. On my dedication page, I dedicated the
whole works to my mother…in memoriam. It is in that regard that I shall pause
here and note that exactly a year ago today, one Stephane - an ardent TSRian,
friend and close confidant never woke up in his sleep. I do observe a minute’s
silence in honour of his memory…
*****
Last Thursday, yours truly was
added to Bryant McGill’s Public List of Aspiring People. Mr. McGill is an
American Author, Speaker and Activist in the field of Self – Development, Personal
Freedom and Human Rights. ‘I do feel
humbled to be in your list of aspiring people. Thanks’ Were my sentiments
in a quick rejoinder to the renowned author. The crux of this means myself and
other individuals are urged to stop aspiring and start being as the world needs
us. I get to benchmark with diverse and likeminded people. Small strides but
awesome in a special way. The late Stephane would say, ‘Cole, you must be doing something right.’
I’ve been hesitant on this but I
may as well intimate to you that this blog has about 7 months to go. I’m
intending to adopt a more personal style in the coming days e.g. my struggles
as a zega man, dreams, marriage (Oh LAWD!), coming out (??), boyfriends, milestones
I’ve made et al. The status quo must be upset right. No?
*****
So, last week Wentworth Miller in a very passionate
and carefully worded letter made it all clear that he’s out and proud. Okay.
First things first, gay men: I hope you popped champagne to that while the women
who’ve always made him a subject of their fantasies at some not so godly
approved hours may as well have sipped their whiskey or scotch into oblivion - You lost
this one bitches! I however still have reservations with the way foreign media had to
report his age. Really guys? What's wrong with you? You don’t go about telling everyone in the world a
gay man’s age. It’s against the code in a community where once someone hits the
big 3, the volatile man market presents odds against him but well, like a finely matured gay man, Mr. Miller has kept well (No beer gut going on, face still awesome etc.) so on behalf of other gay men, I
disregard reports on his age in entirety.
My point however is not on Miller’s coming out. Yeah,
anyone with a keen eye would notice that there was no major sex/kissing with a
girl scene that featured him in Prison
break. I mean, it was a penitentiary. You people have heard of Anal Rape
stories about these places. I just hope this cute hunk of a man never had to be
the one to bend over to pick the soap. Oops.
Focus Cole. In Mariah Carey’s ‘We
belong together’ music video he carefully acts the part. No kissing.
Nothing.
So you now hate him because he kisses boys? There
lies your problem. Take a seat. The letter is brief and to the point. Doesn’t
skirt around issues and the timing is spot on just after the Russian athletes
PDA in Moscow. Lesson learnt: He came out for a good cause. I have opined here
and in other fora where I’ve interacted with out and proud homosexuals that
Coming Out is a journey that a gay man has to go through. I’m still on this
voyage. Lots of us are. Maybe I’ll never have to. Maybe I will. If your journey
is cut short by someone outing you for their own selfish interests then that’s
just unfortunate. However, the good thing is that they rarely get to keep you.
It shows how… personal divine this journey is. It is against this
backdrop that I salute the celebrities and renowned personalities whose coming
out has been on an incremental trend in recent days. From Anderson Cooper to Frank
Ocean, Jason Collins to wrestler Darren Young, Denis Nzioka to Leonard Mutisya and
now Wentworth Miller, call it the New Normal but it shows that the journey cuts
across the board and shows how human the whole gay subject is. Anytime
someone comes out, I’m happy for his journey not because I have someone new face
to drool over when pleasuring myself on dry days but because they just made the
journey more bearable and/or easier. Took them time but they sure got there.
The journey continues…
See
you on Thursday; we talk about 3D – where D stands for Dimension!
There’s a new man in my life. The
concierge tips his hat as I walk into the sprawling space that defines the
Intercon foyer. I slightly nod my head in acknowledgement with a broad smile to
recognize his aptitude. The establishment is slightly busy but in a decent way.
The artificial lighting is grandiose despite the illuminating sun I’ve left outside.
I make my way to the raised waiting vestibule. I take a seat in one of the
antique chairs, look at my wrist and appreciate I’m on time. He always likes
that. I fish out my phone from my jacket. I make a mental note of the luxurious
wall hangings and works of art as I wait for my call to be answered on the
other end. ‘I’m at the waiting lobby.’
I say then I stash my phone away…
******
Behind The Scenes
BTS 1: Whoa! Haven’t I missed you? I’m itching
with desire to share a lot of things. Did I tell you about the Karuru falls
experience at the Aberdares in details? I don’t think I did because the last
time I was here, I was one furious bitch but hey, it’s all in a day’s work
right? There is also my first time experience watching a 3D flick in a cinema with
a gentleman (fans himself). He’s just been spot on maybe I should turn tables
and pursue him. OMG what about the lunch date with a Chinese man at a place where waiters were absurdly
insane for tips, no? Foreign men! *Rolls eyes* Let’s do this: How about I get
my thoughts organized then we’ll try make up for the lost time. I guess I now
have time on my hands until December (where I already have a cliff hanger to
end the writing season) so I’ll endeavor to feed you with my escapades and see
whether we make a lesson out of it. Tarry a second, I will be out of
jurisdiction for a substantive part of next month but you’ll be in very capable
hands. Someone wants to unmask me on my own turf. Yeah babies you will love him
I’m sure.
BTS 2: In the recent past my trips to the theater
have been on an incremental trend. From Birthday Suite, Killing time, For
Colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow was enough (I’m
still reeling in the honor of having met the Environmental minister in this one),
Backlash etc. I’m no expert but my point is thespians in Kenya are doing us
proud. The local arts are just so bold lately. Broadway material even! I urge
you to spend some moments visiting the theaters sometime, take your baby (beau
that is) there on a random weekend especially those rated Over 18. You can
thank me later.
BTS 3: Some weeks ago I was at City Hall’s
inoculation centre to get a yellow fever jab. Let me be honest with you. I know
I’m a grown ass man but I fear pricks. Okay, that came out wrong. Let me
rephrase lest my superbly matured gay orientation comes into disrepute. I dread
hospital needles ever since I was very young. So when I finally walked into the
room and the nurse administering the prick injection was ready, I told
her to be gentle for her own sanity. She was done in seconds and I hadn’t
realized. My face: Priceless! While at the clinic’s lobby waiting for the
paperwork to be finalized, it really got me thinking. It’s interesting how when
I first lost my virginity at 8 I managed to take D without wailing or even
fidgeting and! I know I have confessed somewhere in this blog that ‘I can’t sit
on it’. The ordeal a pretty boy has to go through. I think if I was to choose
between a needle and man meat. The latter would have my total support but then
ever had that scenario where you went on a first date, the guy was charming,
you took somebody home, pretended to be watching some Queer As Folk before he
got all touchy. You responded and the next thing you realize is that you are
down on your knees - of course not to thank Jesus for finding him - then just when
you have unzipped his pants and his tumescence finally springs free you start
thinking Oh No, I’m protective of my man pussy! Okay, I don’t know where this
is really heading to; let’s go to the business of the day, I got a project that
has literally screwed my brains for the past two months and I got to go present
after this! (Remind me to finish this next time)
******
David and I are seated at the Tribeka lounge on a
random Tuesday afternoon (Note: I’m supposed to be at work) He’s having his
pint as I sip my cold glass of tonic with some lemon pieces in it as we try
catch up through small talk. The conversations range from me asking him why he
was calling me the previous Sunday at midnight saying that he will marry me in
the future to him talking about his ailing mother and ex who’s been hounding
him. Men! I look at my watch and realize it’s 15 past five. Sensing my
discomfort. ‘Babe, you want us to leave?’
he asks me. I agree almost immediately. He signals the waiter who responds
immediately. Guys who at least observe working hours have started streaming in
and so the place is getting busy. ‘Your
bill has already been settled.’ He says. David thinks it’s one of his
drinking buddies. When the waiter finally points the generous stranger who took
charge of our check; ‘Isn’t that your
boss babe?’ David asks. I almost piss in my pants. It’s the good Dr. Fuck!
*******
…I’m at a
disadvantage here. I think to myself while waiting for him to come pick me.
Is there a problem? Shouldn’t we have
just done whatever is to be done at the office? What did I do wrong? But then
this is a five star place. I’ve never been here before, maybe it’s nothing.
A tall, dark and almost handsome waiter interrupts my wandering thoughts. I’ve
been sent to come and accompany you to Mr. Tosh’s table. I almost choke on
saliva. He’s being as modest as he always
is.He’s a Dr. for crying out loud!
My conscience wildly affirms. He leads me through a corridor that’s donned with
pieces of Art whose price tags must have to be obscene. I notice a
couple having their lunch at a deserted Bhandini restaurant. He’s probably rented the whole place for
her. My conscience opines. The Speaker of the Senate is in a deep
conversation with an affluent looking female companion on some table. I mean
the bag is shouting Dior, no? We pass a banquet like looking area and walk into
an open setting next to the swimming pool. He’s busy keying in on his iPad while
talking on the Bluetooth device on his left ear. His long fingers that I have
since concluded are a subject of my fantasies on a dry day are as always well
manicured. The gold ring on his marriage finger glitters in the Thursday
afternoon sun. He reeks of some not so cheap cologne. It’s a mild male scent.
Designer I’m sure. As I approach the table he rises steadily, I notice the polished
buckle of his belt. It’s a Gucci. My conscience warns me to get my eyes off
that area. He shakes my hand motioning me to take a seat which the waiter has
pulled for me. He takes his seat. His soft hand plants some not so godly ideas
in my head. Don’t you just love a man with beautiful manners! ‘Do me a quick email, I’ll float it to her
later today then furnish you with a response ASAP. Thanks.’ He disconnects
his call. ‘Sorry Collins, thanks for
coming. I hope I never interfered with your program or anything.’ He says
in his deep American English brogue. ‘Not
at all Dr. Anthony, I’m sure you summoned me here for lunch.’ I respond
grinning and he smiles almost immediately. ‘You
are the one person who insists on calling me Doctor in the office and now
everyone seems to be taking a cue from you.’ He observes. ‘You earned it daktari and I have to
recognize that.’ I respond matter-of-factly and he instantly beams. His
plastic smile is priceless. How comes toothpaste companies haven’t made an
offer? I notice he only has a tall glass
of some untouched white guava juice. He says he’d already eaten at the
conference they were hosting from earlier with visiting guests and since he
still had time and food had been catered for, he felt we can use the afternoon
to patch up the work plan document in a neutral environment. I excuse myself to
go to the buffet area from earlier. He rises! OMG I’m honestly reconsidering my dating patterns from today. I mutter
inside to myself. The waiter accompanies me to the immaculately laid out buffet
area we’d passed earlier. I see an exclusively Kenyan section and that’s where
we are headed. After showing the waiter what to serve me, I head back to the
table where he’s seated busy typing away on his gadget. My conscience takes me
to the gutter. Admit it Cole, He’s
bangable!But… Fuck. He’s straight
and he’s my boss!
Tosh Dr. Anthony* is a 6’2,
athletic-bodied (probably from his soft ball interests at Tennessee), light
complexioned, well groomed, (did I say tall?) man of African descent. Oh he’s
Kenyan. He’s married (yeah, it’s that depressing) to a mixed race Kenyan girl from
one of those champagne-sipping-when-welcoming-any-guest families. He equally
stems from one of those well known names in the country’s legal system. At 29
he’s already armed with his PhD that is a year and a half old since it was
bequeathed on him. A very spot on research consultant he is with a very vibrant
social nature. Perhaps it borrows heavily from his mid town Nashville and Houghton
Street exposure. He’s one of those privileged guys who never had to hustle for
a job like some of us do after High School to chart our way forward through
college. In fact (from my little online stalking expertise) I notice from his
CV and LinkedIn profiles that while I was graduating High School in 2006, he
was attending the Harvard Summer School seminar program on International Law
and Human Rights! Jeez he was 22 for Christ’s sake! Oh and from his YouTube
videos, someone is very passionate about social Justice, Human Rights and has a
very fertile mind in Politics. An alumnus of Strathmore school (The guy scored
an A), LSE (Masters in Law, Anthropology and Society), and clench your butts: Vanderbilt
University (First degree in Law and his PhD)! Oh and just in passing; the soon
to be defunct KSL. Yet he still remains humble and likeable! Honestly how the
hell does one become a doctor at 29! He was introduced to me by my boss three
months ago and the idea is that I’m to work under with him to ensure a
smooth run of the office. He’s one of those guys I instantly clicked with and
as soon as I got alone, got out my laptop and sent him a quick email that I’m
honored I’ll be working with him. He thanked me almost immediately. ‘Thanks Collins, the feeling is mutual. I’ve
heard lots of positive things about you.’ Read a section of the email. Aww!
This new man is probably influencing a lot of my decisions
within and without the office in very positive ways. It is from him I got the
inspiration to finalize a Degree course I’ve deferred for a year or so.
Graduation is later this year. I’ll be turning 25 later this year so if I ever
want to be a Doctor by my 29th birthday then this may as well be a
starting point. The dates I’ve had to cancel, the rushed dinners with friends
just to rush and go edit that Literature Review paragraph due to some new
information etc. It is from these two months I’ve learnt men are at large and
won’t go extinct anytime soon.
How big are you?
After some deep soul searching, it is with a very heavy
heart that these happenings provoked my thinking. ‘You’re a big shot’, is one of the comments we make when we meet
someone we think is successful. In fact, I was very humbled to find out one of
you is actually a real shrink recently over dinner. I’m no saint but some of us
need to get schooled. I’m talking about the zega men around us who have got
nothing to bring to the table other than their massive tools and/or endowed
asses. I know in the past I’ve talked about gay diggers, professional students,
high maintenance boys’ et al. I’m addressing those guys who sit at Envy or
Gypsies and the moment they are aware that the guy they are cruising has
actually done something outstanding with their gay selves, they look at him as
a potential gold mine and strategies to get him are immediately drafted. The
guys who when a guy breaks up with you, throws you out of his apartment along
Manyani East road, advises the guard never to allow you in and feels nothing
and then you have to locate where a jav is taken. The guys who are given some
fare to make it back to the city centre from Westlands after a moment of sex. I
even hear there is a French man who gives guys 20 bob to find their way back to
the CBD after deflowering ‘em. Is it true? Surely, is it worth it?
Ours is a society when asked how big you are, your mind
automatically starts estimating how many inches you have down there when the
question only had something to do with the strides you’ve taken in life. We
make fun of Hon. Kiraitu Murungi yet he boasts of a First Class in Law at
Harvard while we are still stuck at the Hospitality or Beauty course we did
eons ago and have never pursued it! We dream of getting cruised by the ilk of DJ
CK who's living his life not realizing the guy lost a huge chunk of his
youthful life making his billions! We want to be screwed by prime man meat in
Karen or Runda but ever noticed you are still a visitor to these places and
head back to your dingy one room dungeon that has posters of a shirtless Usher Raymond
at the end of the day? Fine, you only date guys who drive a car. Bitch with
tremendous respect, when will you also enjoy rummaging your man purse looking
for your credit card at a gas station?
If the bar is that high when it comes to choosing successful
men when we are in essence needy, what hope is there for that Dandora dude who’s
struggling to make ends meet and still makes an effort to look for some man
pussy or D? You do know they say when you judge a fish by its ability to climb
a tree; it will forever live its life thinking it’s stupid.
The curse in being gay in the modern century (forget
the crap in Law and these seed sowing preachers) is that the competition is stiff.
If you consider your pretty self the submissive partner or ‘honorary woman’, I
hate to break it to you (and your therapist) honey, you’ve got to fight just
like astute and sublimely talented women like Hon. Gladys Shollei. Same applies
if you are the one who does the banging and you think you are the next best
gift to bottoms. The days of a guy leaving you in his apartment watching series
as he goes to work are spent. I’m particularly more concerned with how a guy
you’ve been seeing for a while introduces you when you accidentally run into
his boss or one of his professional acquaintances who’s not gay at the mall?
What does he associate you with? If he only uses your Romeo or Man Hunt name
then it’s a wakeup call.
Upset the Status quo
You may be a top
great waiter, great actor, a prolific writing enthusiast, popular as fuck in
the zega scene, an office assistant who serves tea to the bosses, a humble
young man like yours truly who has the opportunity or goes through the agony of
sitting next to a Dr. in a boardroom meeting and see him make the dissenting
voices retreat on a document he authored! The status quo must be upset. A fully
fledged gay man should never be comfortable. We are attacked from all corners
but ours is a society when you build an empire, the gay side is automatically
overlooked because everyone not only feels you are a force to reckon with but
you can change their life. In as much as I fear growing old, the society releases
fine, wet behind the ears pretty boys every year. I don’t want to be one of
those characters who realizes when my time in the man market is spent I have
nothing to show for it except a senseless disease or living in a ramshackle.
Successful people never apologize for their success and that’s why they choose
partners who can complement them. All the by the way ass or dick is just a
minor distraction for them to get to the ideal guy.
Mr. Dr. Gakeri once mentioned to us in a
Law class that Education changes how you perceive almost everything around you.
How you think, how you eat, how you relate to people - almost all spheres. I
know there are the occasional drop outs that have built their empires e.g.
successful businesses and hired educated guys to make them look good. This is because
they equally understand the essence. The rest of us who have to struggle to
make it in life have no choice but do something about it. The best pride lies
in the fact that you have a sore man pussy but it’s on your own terms!
*******
We step out of the Intercon. It’s 3.40p.m. The valet
pulls over at the entrance in a silver metallic X5. He steps out handing Dr. Anthony his keys,
comes round the other side where I’m still glued to the car in front of me and
is courteous enough to open the passenger door. ‘Please.’ The doctor tells me. I fasten my seatbelt. He engages
the gears and we are soon on our way back to the office. He tunes into X F.M and
MKTO beams on. I Know Right?
Peace Out!
Next
week on T.S.R
“You look different.
As in good different. We should be meeting on weekends.” He
says as we head to the IMAX popcorn point.
