Standing by the open window, with the breeze and the ocean scents brushing over his face, Job Learsim debated between going for a beer and staying in the hotel room. With the Birihani, from the hotel comfortably tucked in his stomach, food was already sorted. The palm trees, outside, waved rhythmically in the faint light of the setting sun. For a guest on a re-energizing-working-weekend visit, a nice time in a coastal pub, like the Sailors Crib, has always been irresistible. But everyone back at home: the therapist, family, friends, you name them, had warned him to stay away from alcohol. No one wanted a repeat of what happened one moon-lit night: Job cat-walked across the neighbourhood, in a birthday suit, as if he’d excused himself from a coven (sleepwalking was the term everyone used to refer to it)...
He closed his eyes briefly. Immediately, his mind battled against itself in a bid to resolve the conflict boiling within his consciousness. The sound of breaking waves, screaming seabirds, the vehicular traffic and voices of the other lodgers, sailed in through every open space.
“It is Friday after all...” he told himself before stepping out for one beer, just one...
He went down the plwd-friendly stairs and majestically walked into the sports arena themed beer-joint, like a warrior. But as he waited for his drink, perched on one of the stools by the counter, one thing caught his eyes: a lone lady scrolling through her phone with a glass of Kingfisher wine in front of her, on the other end of the counter. Above an aura of clout & the crease-free dress she wore, Job was in no doubt that she came straight out of a nearby office to unwind after work. Something was not right with her, though. It was something more than her king-sized hips; more than her elegant height; more than her shining face and even more than her occasional glances. But Job could not tell exactly what.
The Sailors Crib, its modest clientele and its soft Rumba music promised him nothing short of pure niceness. The Guinness tasted just like Arthur-II intended.
***
Three hours later:
“Please lemme also buy one beer, just one, to celebrate this reunion.” Mwekali Nelang’u pleaded with a smile.
Hic!
Job Learsim cocked his head sideways. Hic! Hic!
“Plea-a-s-s-e!”
“We-l-l. W-w-e-ell, tw-e-nty, twe-e-n-nty six years is such a long time for sure. I’ll take it...”
The lady raised her glass.
CLICK!
“To good old memories mister Learsim; my primary school classmate!”
He closed his eyes briefly. Immediately, his mind battled against itself in a bid to resolve the conflict boiling within his consciousness. The sound of breaking waves, screaming seabirds, the vehicular traffic and voices of the other lodgers, sailed in through every open space.
“It is Friday after all...” he told himself before stepping out for one beer, just one...
He went down the plwd-friendly stairs and majestically walked into the sports arena themed beer-joint, like a warrior. But as he waited for his drink, perched on one of the stools by the counter, one thing caught his eyes: a lone lady scrolling through her phone with a glass of Kingfisher wine in front of her, on the other end of the counter. Above an aura of clout & the crease-free dress she wore, Job was in no doubt that she came straight out of a nearby office to unwind after work. Something was not right with her, though. It was something more than her king-sized hips; more than her elegant height; more than her shining face and even more than her occasional glances. But Job could not tell exactly what.
The Sailors Crib, its modest clientele and its soft Rumba music promised him nothing short of pure niceness. The Guinness tasted just like Arthur-II intended.
***
Three hours later:
“Please lemme also buy one beer, just one, to celebrate this reunion.” Mwekali Nelang’u pleaded with a smile.
Hic!
Job Learsim cocked his head sideways. Hic! Hic!
“Plea-a-s-s-e!”
“We-l-l. W-w-e-ell, tw-e-nty, twe-e-n-nty six years is such a long time for sure. I’ll take it...”
The lady raised her glass.
CLICK!
“To good old memories mister Learsim; my primary school classmate!”
