I subscribed to the Nude Club…

FB_IMG_1470404807792[1]                                     Last night I returned to the newest kid on the block: The Nude Lounge. The kind of day I had had made it a basic need, the most urgent, that I be there. All the way, I kept praying that Clyde would be at work. You see, I do not know what that delicious drink he serves me is called. I have no idea what heavenly ingredients he combines. I just know I love how it sits on my tongue a while, how it claims my mouth and doesn’t stay too long inside my molar cavities. When it slides down, it makes love to my throat and everything else on its way. The taste it leaves in my mouth brings me the desire to have someone share and swallow my saliva. Oh I love that drink. It does not make me sleepy. It keeps me alert enough to enjoy my surrounding, and most of all the variety of humanity. The happenings weren’t any different last night.

Before I set my expensive looking cheap purse down or sit my lithe self-proper, Clyde was there. I don’t know which between his huge smile and the beautiful drink in his hand impressed me most. When he said, “You look lovely.” I believed him. I know it is part of customer service courtesy but who is checking? My nameless poison started playing dirty and I started to look around me. A huge guy walked in, a young light-skinned skinny female clung possessively to him. He seemed very pleased with his conquest. Before pulling out the seat for her, he said hello towards my direction. Oh no. You should have seen the look on little miss’s face. I am a peaceful woman. I smiled and said hello, and continued to give my undivided attention to Clyde’s magic.

Little Miss wasn’t very pleased at how big guy’s eyes kept roaming to his left. She complained loudly about how cold it was. When the fire was brought, she said something about being allergic to carbon. Then the seat was too high and the cushion too hard it hurt her bony behind. When big guy left for the cloak room, little Miss looked daggers at me. I did not return the look. I was there to forget my woes not add more. When big guy returned Nikikutazama a.k.a kipenzi cha ngoro was playing. He must have forgotten which woman he came with for he was singing along heartily towards my seat… That was the last I saw of them. Miss pulled him away to a more comfortable place.

Then there was this respectable woman. My mama’s age mate she must have been. She also loved her own company. I don’t know why she kept calling Clyde Jimmy. Every time Clyde brought her another brown bottle she would yell, “Jimmy come closer, I wanna tell you something” and Clyde would smile and let her know he was listening…Then she would forget about it and drink from the bottle and sing as she swallowed. There was a man drinking away his pension peacefully. He was shaking his head. He was not dancing. He wanted some more sensible music. The he wanted the late night news to be put on. Jimmy lady told him, “Where I come from if you want to eat liver, you slaughter your own. If you want to watch news, old man, go home.”

At the furthest corner of the counter was another lone man. He was playing with his bottle and dancing with his face. He would shake his head every time a waiter walked towards him. He wanted the beautiful waitresses. An argument was frothing on my right. The lady wanted vanilla milkshake. The man did not understand why of all drinks he was going to pay for a milk shake. He wondered if she had been breastfed enough as a child and she wondered how on earth he did not know what a milkshake was. You see the lady had been taking the stuff that would make my eyes tear and my throat burn like it has soars, then suddenly she wanted milk shake. I laughed in my heart.

Then it was approaching midnight. It seemed as though a bus had picked all of them and had just dropped them outside. Masses of very good-looking faces were milling in. Even the DJ seemed to be on cue, for the music was growing louder and really danceable. The young ones seemed to be literally running in and hopping to the dance floor. The party had just begun. Even the temperatures rose to the occasion. The AC was on, automatically. The dancefloor was crowded.

Those who could not make it to the dance floor danced close to their drinks like yours truly. Others were happy to sit and watch. The music was awesome. I listened, enjoyed and watched, dancing from my shoulders upwards. I saw Clyde walk hurriedly towards me. He stood there saying nothing with his face looking into mine. Someone was asking his colleague Ben about him. Ben was saying Clyde quit, he no longer worked there. The man’s voice was too familiar. When I checked from the corner of my eye, it was my boss, his wife was standing beside him, holding his left hand. So boss is a member too huh?  I let Clyde hide his face while hiding mine, and I knew the next two drinks would leave no dent in my purse. Whatever he had done was of zero importance then.

I am not sure how Jesus feels about the dance moves. Suddenly people were boneless. The men were at home with the women rubbing their posteriors against them, while they stood there sipping their drinks and moving a little. The energy on the floor was electrifying. The dancers were very obedient; they did everything the lyrics demanded. The DJ was really earning his keep, for in no time pieces of clothing were flying his way. He would catch some let them meet his face inhale and know exactly what music was needed. Or so it seemed. Then it was too hot. I must have missed the point when exactly everyone changed into warmer clothes. There was more skin now. Dressed more in sweat than fabric…

Then everyone was on the floor again. For God was passing by, The DJ was mixing Gospel hits and letting them play to the end among them siwezi jizuia,kunena yako mema , ..ingelikuwa Mungu anauliza mwanadamu jinsi ya kumutendea mwanadamu mwingine… then ooooh ayaa yaaa… Oh hands were up in the air and everyone was singing along in full praise and worship mode. Then Zilizopendwa and the high school looking kids seemed to be the ones who knew them most. They sang into their partners’ ears. The screaming wouldn’t stop. I felt a sudden urge to scream too and I did. Strangers seemed to be so comfortable with each other’s bodily fluids… I needed to go home; I could not find my shoe.

 

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7 Comments

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  1. Why do I have a feeling that you were admiring Clyde ? If my guess is right, Perhaps you should have gone for it and popped out the big word. Haha, nice one anyway.

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  2. Hey Verarita Wananyanga. Finally landed on your page. I like the blog. interesting tales. Send me an email. oyungapala@gmail.com. All the best and keep writing.

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  3. I run my own blog(walterogwai.blogspot.ae) and for a moment after reading your articles, I feel like quitting. Girl you are dope. Maybe we should patner and run a duo blog. What do you think?

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