THE HILTON CHIC
The Hilton chic
It was on a Saturday and mike had invited me for a basketball game with some of his “elite” friends. When I say elite I mean the rich young men who can afford a hair cut worth1000
bob and not feel a pinch. I was a little bit short on cash and I didn’t mind jogging some distance thanks to my kalenjin traits. I arrived just in time to witness mikes elite friends park their guzzlers, it kinda made me connect with the song “uliza kiatu” considering I walked almost half the distance. His friends were like photocopies of him, one was Lucas, Theo and Adrian. We were suppose to go to the court first but the trio had not taken breakfast so we had to take a detour(do people still take breakfast, back in the hood there is something called combination) . I thought they would just take some at java and I couldn’t have thought wrong. Before I continue, is it me or did you know that there is a place where coffee costs more than 300 bob. A hair cut I can adjust but a beverage…I mean seriously. Unless you are fetching it in a 20 liter “mtungi” or they serve them in golden cups which you get to take home then am down with it. As we entered Hilton it was like a museum or perhaps coffee was just 50 bob and the rest of the charge was because of its serene environment. The air inside was not the usual polluted Nairobi kind. We were all in track suits a bit of relief because I was afraid I would under dress for the occasion. As I sat on the sofa it was like sitting on a moving cloud, it couldn’t get any more comfortable plus the table was made of neatly sculptured mahogany, the kind you see on television costing more than what I make in two years cumulatively. I was excited and uncomfortable at the same time and it was no use trying to hide it. The guys each took what I thought was magazine only to find out that it was a menu. I followed suit and to be honest everything in the menu seemed strange or perhaps it was their generic names but then again I wasn’t good at biology in high school.
I would have easily confused the waiters as guests. They wore black tuxedo with white bow ties and red half coats to top it all. Had I known waiters dressed this cool I might have changed my career. The waiter smiled and called mike by name confirming that he was a regular no doubt. Mike waved and said the “usual”, it was a bit ofa relief since he had saved me from my indecisive mind on what to order after all everything seemed foreign.The waiters brought about 4 trays which made me question whether we were about to eat breakfast or perhaps they were no different from us with regards to “combination” (a combination is where you forfeit breakfast to eat it with lunch). My acting had been out of practice nonetheless I tried my best to pretend that I knew what I was doing. I would look at mike and follow every step, every tea spoon until I was able to make whatever it is they called ‘breakfast’ (it had a very difficult name to pronounce). The breakfast was pretty tasty although I was a bit concerned for my stomach. After tasting such a luxurious meal I was afraid it would not go back to “mtura” and “chapo madondo” It was used to back in my hood.
I am always a fast eater so I was done while the rest were half-way and besides I needed concrete evidence so that when I tell my friends back in the hood they would believe me. I excused myself from table and started exploring the place getting amazed by everything like a kid would at his first time to the zoo. As I was collecting as much evidence as I could by taking selfies with every cool non-living thing inside I saw lifts up ahead and you all know my history with lifts. I entered one and pressed 3(my lucky number), I have to admit though; the experience was different unlike that of my work place. The lift doors opened and just as I was getting out a lady bumped into me, pouring hot coffee on my expensive mtumba track suit (a Versace I might add). Thank God I didn’t have Abdi’s suit on. I was busy saving my future kids so I didn’t look up immediately although I heard her say sorry severally. When I did look up, I froze with immobility. A beauty my eyes had never witnessed. She had these almond shaped soft, gentle and soulful eyes. You could easily drown in them. Her smooth, porcelain, scarless sculpted face an evidence of Gods perfection. I can describe her more but that’s not the point. So, she offered to make it up to me by letting me freshen up in her room which was across the hallway. If this is what it takes to be “chips fungad” then I will be willing to offer out my loins any time any day. I said no but she insisted, who was I (a mere mortal) to say no to an immortal.As She led me to her room I noticed how gifted she was on the rear side close to vera sidika. Her room was at the furthest corner so we got to know each other’s names and hers was Mitchell from the coastal region (so the myth is true about taita ladies). The room was sparkly clean, heavily decorated with portraits and lots of artifacts.
“The bathroom is that way,” she pointed.You could eat off the floor that bathroom, I took a bath towel and wiped off the stains took a hair dryer and dried myself. As I got out she was comfortably seated on her leather sofa reading the drum magazine. She said welcome as she patted on the sofa. Like a child at the sight of sweets I hurriedly sat next to her. “Is this how you pick up guys?” I asked
She laughed and said “only when they impress me”.
“And how often are you impressed?” I interjected
“Rarely”, she joked
“So what do you do?” she inquired.I looked directly into her cheerful eyes, caressed my non-existent beards and with a tinge of pride replied I work with a law firm ,with as much robust energy as I could( not as a lawyer of course but she didn’t need to know that, it is called” plausible deniability”). I am not normally this brave but hanging with mike had bolstered my confidence level hugely. You know what they say, you hang around two broke people, you become the third, you hang around Casanovas then you will also become one
We were deep in conversation when my phone rang, I had totally forgotten about mike and his friends. I excused myself and answered the phone .Mitchell also said she was heading somewhere, so we accompanied each other as we headed outside. When we reached the parking bay, a vale had already unparked her car. She then tipped the young vale who then handed her the keys. I couldn’t help but notice we were all alone in the parking bay; she leapt closer to me until we were eye to eye, she was a little bit shorter than me but that didn’t deter her from raising her neck. I went for a kiss but she pushed me gently, “maybe next time Brian”, she said. She gave me a kiss to my cheek and I was left there mesmerized as she sped off.
I quickly joined the gang and we headed to the basket ball court. And as expected the guys didn’t believe the story, I wished I had taken a selfie with her or at least asked for her number. To be quite honest, she was way out of my league. After practice, we hanged around town till evening and we parted ways. Mike gave me a lift but because my hood is not the kind of place you can just drive by at night I had to alight before I reached my destination. Mike hurriedly sped off; I could tell he was afraid of being mugged.
There was no need for supper so I went straight and lay on my bed as I reflected on the day’s events particularly my encounter with Mitchell, it really pained me that I didn’t get her number. That would mean that I would have to pass by Hilton after work for the rest of my life until I met her again (a price I was willing to pay). Sleep quickly caught up with me, so I slipped into my pajamas and as I threw my trousers down something fell down. I got out of bed hoping that it was a 100 shilling note I had forgotten I had. It was a card with a phone number and above it was a kiss. The kiss had faded, a clear indication it had brushed against my trousers. . At the back was the name “Mitchell”, I found myself jumping and screaming. Maish my immediate neighbor tapped the mabati separating us and said”wacha wazimu na ulale”, (stop this madness and sleep). I laughed myself to sleep and couldn’t wait for the next day to reach to floss to everyone I knew. Mitchell must have slipped her number when we were in the parking bay. The urge to call her was so immense, I even okoad jahazi but due to the 24 hour rule I had to chain myself to the bed. Minutes later I dozed off with a smile on my face.