Monday, 25 August 2008

The scourge called 'woman'

“Men rule the world, they say, but women rule men.”
This, my friend, Obi, saw on a woman’s Tee shirt (trying to get an eyeful of cleavage no doubt). ‘I wanted to hold her neck and sqqquezzeeee, and sqqquezzeee!’ he narrated later. I have since thought about his reaction and he could have only have been irked thus for one reason and one reason only – it is true (how bitter that sounds). Sorry to burst your bubble all you testosterone driven males holding the world in your hands, but feel those clutches around your sides? Yep, that is a woman’s claws well entrenched and there is precious little you can do about it (till you read through this guys, because I am here to fight the cause. Its time men took their rightful place back from these daughters of Eve).
Fact: A man walks into any bar in the world and laments loud enough for all others to hear ‘women, why did God make them?’ Instantly he has gotten friends, and free beer of sympathy to go along. Okay okay, what about women amongst women? (Gosh I hear those thoughts clearly). Ladies, lets be honest, when a woman seeks the ears of other female strangers, it doesn’t hold the same packed punch. You know what that means guys? We are in this together and together we will take back our place – just read on.
Women reading this would be simmering gently by now, water on low heat (definitely no pun intended) moving towards boiling point, ready to take to arms – the never ending battle of the sexes (which we – the guys – are set to prevail).
Guys lets look our strengths here. I am yet to meet a woman who says her closest friends are women. ‘Men are so easy to get along with than women are.’ They readily say; and in the same, but now exasperated breath, ‘men!’ well well, how do we let such advantage slip? Women take to men (as friends) so readily and guess what? Men’s best pals are also men. So, why are we still taking a back bench? Why do women determine (if indirectly) every decision we take? What was that? Their looks? Those breasts, the hair, eyes, backside? Guys, guys I feel you, I mean, I am a guy as well and I have eyes but listen to me, we were cheated by nature. Look at the animals – lion, lizard, peacock, the list goes on and on, the male is always prettier but with humans it just had to be the other way round. Someone called it nature’s mistake and I wholly agree. We must see woman as being with some features that are rightfully ours. That’s the first step gentlemen.
Secondly don’t try to understand women. That is another secret weapon of theirs. They inundate the men with their many puzzles and while we are trying to fathom them, they take the initiative.
‘Son, women have many rules which a man knows nothing about until he breaks them.’ That was from a movie I saw sometime back. How true. But to buttress my point even further, in a moment of my dad’s frustration with my mum, I told a joke which he laughed long and loud at and strongly insisted I tell the old lady as well. Suffice to say she didn’t find it quite as funny.
A man with so much on his mind happened upon a genie. And like all good genies would, the man had a wish just waiting to be granted.
‘Anything you wish for, my good man, will be granted. But mind you, just one wish, so choose carefully.’
There was so much the man wanted for himself but being philanthropic was best, he decided, so, because the people of his town had suffered so much from being cut off by a huge lake from the city, he decided on a bridge.’
‘A bridge?’ The genie frowned. He hadn’t counted on a wish like that. ‘My good man, do have pity on a genie, think of the wood, steel, nails and every other thing I would have to use.’ He grabbed the man’s shoulders and looked imploringly in the man’s eyes. ‘Please pick another wish.’
The man thought again. Philanthropy was out the window. This time he would ask for something he had always wanted.
‘Okay, genie, I want to understand women.’
‘The genie sat down on a rock, held his head in his hands and thought for a very long time. Finally he looked up. ‘That bridge,’ he asked, ‘would you want a dual or a triple carriage way?’

Guys, there u have it. Need I say more? We need to resist them when they turn on their charms and use their wiles to manipulate us. We need to see through the beauty mask and hold firm. We have to take back our place – by force if necessary. We…er excuse me, phone…gentlemen, we will have to call it a day here. Just got a call from this hot broad I have been chasing for a while…no groaning man, you should see this girl. She sizzles!
What was that? Prevail? Well that would be another day.

Saturday, 9 August 2008

Circle of the lollipop

‘Can you believe who came to tell me he was in love with me?’
She asked this with just the right pomp to evoke sympathetic jeers from her enthralled audience. The two other girls flanking her on either side as they made their way towards the dorm from class leaned in, holding their gaze steady and smiles ready; waiting to break into laughter.
‘The lollipop’
‘Who else?’
Her friends threw their heads back and indulged her heartily. It was the cue she needed for more.
‘Can you imagine that…that bean pole, shaking that large head of his in front of me muttering “Shusan, Shusan, can you come hout for a date tonight?”’
Their sudden eruption was like a champagne cork popping open and its contents sizzling wantonly all over the place. They stopped and leant against a wall to catch their breaths.
‘”Shusan hi have been looking at you for long time. Hi love you shince.”’
‘Susan, stop it! You are killing me.’ The books which both her friends held tight to their bosoms stumbled out of their grasps between spasms of laughter.
‘But really, what was he thinking? How could he, in a million years, believe I would ever say yes to his ugly African arse? Talking in that accent that could scare off ghosts in the dark? I could kill him for even coming to me.’
‘So what did you tell him? What did you tell him?’ They picked up their books, still coughing out the last peals.
‘What do you think I told him? I told him to stick his face where the sun don’t shine.’
‘No?’ Mock horror.
‘Oh yes I did. I think that went right over his head. The likes of him would need a Sat-Nav to cross the road. The idiot. I suspect he is still a virgin’
‘Care to find out?’ They teased.
‘Are you joking? I would have a leper’s baby first.’
‘Wicked Susan, that’s just plain wicked.’ They were holding their sides again.

‘Hello girls, you aren’t laughing at me are you?’ The smooth confidence in the question ceased their mirth in an instant. It was like someone somewhere had pressed a ‘pause’ button. Austin Gretsky, a Greek god who had decided to come to university and (thanks to the fates) was in their class.
‘Hello Susan, Trish, Yvonne.’
‘Hello Austin.’ They cooed shyly, mentally adjusting themselves to look like beauty queens. He shifted his six foot two “muscles-struggling-to-rip-my-top” frame to the girl in the middle. A sweeping gesture that swung the part of his mane covering his face to the back of his head topped the ‘cool.’
‘You free later tonight Susan?’
‘What do you have in mind?’
He winked in reply.
‘Naughty, naughty. I don’t know, we will see now, wouldn’t we?’ She giggled.
He dug a pen out of his pockets, seized her hand and opened her palm. ‘This is my number.’ He smudged her hands with ink. ‘Call me tonight.’ Another flick of his head and he walked off.
‘Wow, Suuusan Baaaby! Talk about scoring the big one.’
“Will you call him? Will you call?’
She eyed her friends whose faces at the moment would make light bulbs pale. It was the Austin Gretsky effect. She could see the green in their eyes as well.
‘You can bet your scanty pubic hairs on it sweetheart.’
Yvonne’s next request confirmed her fears.
‘Let’s see the number, Susan.’
I don’t think so. ‘Maybe some other time lovely. Now I got to run.’ Austin Gretsky was now her man. Damned if any leech touched him. She scurried off to prepare herself.

Life happened.

‘Hi Susan.’
‘Heeello Yvonne sweetheart.’ She’s looking really nice, the witch.
‘Sorry I couldn’t come earlier.’ She leaned in so they exchanged kisses, pouting ever so lightly to keep her lipstick in tact. ‘You know how Richard is. He is a good boss…’ She flicked her index finger across the seat and examined the finger.
‘It’s clean Yvonne.’ Susan offered icily.
‘You never know with places like this.’ She sank into the seat, crossed her legs with hands on knees, adjusting her designer suit to make as minimal contact as possible with the plastic chair. Her Gucci bag found a place at the edge of the table far from Susan’s KFC chicken wings. ‘…Richard runs the firm like a military camp. He needs me around him all the time, the poor bloke. The place would go to pieces if I wasn’t there to help.’ Susan over-smiled at Yvonne giggles.
‘You look good Yvonne. Time has been kind to you.’
‘And money too my dear. Richard does hand out more tip than I deserve really.’ She winked. Susan had her plastic smile ready.
‘You look a tad chubbier.’ Their eyes met. ‘Well, not too bad though.’
‘Thanks Yvonne.’
‘How is your son? Jack?’
‘Jason. He is growing up too fast for me. Seems like yesterday I had him and already he is eight. I can hardly keep up with him these days. Just the other day he climbed a tree and fell…’
‘Ah there you are.’ Yvonne kicked herself off the chair to meet a figure shuffling through the swinging glass doors. Susan looked up at Trish hugging the not-as-enthusiastic Yvonne. There had been a time when she hated these women – years ago when she saw them as backstabbing sluts for going behind her to sleep with Austin Gretsky, when Trish had gone a step further and married him. Susan had sworn revenge and embraced her grudge through four relationships till a fateful stormy night that Trish showed up at her door, naked, bruised and badly shaken. Austin Gretsky was a monster.

‘Hi Susan.’ Trish broke away from Yvonne and approached the table.
‘Hello my darling.’ The mental wounds were stamped on her like a badge. Susan clung on tight to comfort her. The meeting had been Susan’s idea. They hadn’t been together like this since their uni days. She had planned to reignite the spark before Austin Gretsky. It was a mistake; obvious within seconds of their seating down.
Yvonne, prim as a packaged doll, with her superiority airs looking over the bridge of her nose, wary of the ‘contaminated’ atmosphere that could be potentially lethal to her skin. Trish, an epitome of the very opposite; her hollow eyes shifted nervously at the slightest sound. She didn’t care that her dress, too large, trammeled across the floor after her feet, gathering dirt. Her long black hair, once the envy of many, now hung dry and brittle about her shoulders. A little more effort and she would fit for the part of a scarecrow in a local play and wouldn’t need costumes. If this was the long term Austin Gretsky effect, Susan thought, if things had gone as she had hoped back then, she, and not Trish, would be looking like that now. Oh girls, Thank you so much.
Then there was her, Susan, with two marriages, two relationships and a son in her wake. Life had taught her enough lessons and she had been a good pupil. Yvonne, Susan felt, was too pretentious. What she wanted at the moment was not a friend but someone to worship and adore her and her ‘achievements. Trish on the other hand, having refused to leave Austin in spite of all he had done to her, needed an ever listening ear to tell her daily tales of woe to. They, in Susan’s opinion, still had a lot to learn.
An uneasy silence fell around the table after pleasantries had been gotten out of the way. Austin Gretsky seemed to be the only thing all three girls now had in common and discussing their past sexual exploits with him (that had cracked their friendship in the first place) was anywhere but near the vicinity of ‘wise.’

‘I ran into Peter the other day.’ Trish came to the rescue.
‘Peter?’ Yvonne latched on. At least a conversation had started. Susan corked an ear as well. She had known so many Peters over time.
‘You know, Peter, that African guy at Uni.’
‘The lollipop?’
‘That’s the one. I bumped into him at Tescos. He recognized me first and asked after you two. He looks so different now. Working on some research for NASA he said.
‘Wow, sounds important.’
‘He looks important as well.’
‘Would be good to meet him, you know, see how he is after all these years. He still single?’
‘I would say so. We didn’t have that much time to talk though. I had to get home to Austin and his troubles.’
Susan had been quiet at her friends’ exchange. Yvonne’s question, however, made her raise an eyebrow.
‘So you didn’t get his number then?’
‘No I am afraid not.’
‘Pity. Susan, you wouldn’t happen to have his number would you?’
There was no way history was going to repeat itself.
‘No Yvonne, I don’t have it.’

It was somewhere in the attic amongst dusty books, clothes and what-nots from uni that she had stashed away ages back. He had given it to her during her last days on campus and she had a vague recollection of keeping it somewhere. Where? It took an hour of nearly pulling the place apart before she found it folded in Rocks of the Jurassic age. Jason had given up trying to get her to come down. ‘In a minute sweetie.’ He was probably asleep by now. Her hands shook as she keyed in the numbers on her mobile. What if he had changed his number?
He hadn’t.
‘Hi Peter, its Susan, remember me?’
Of course he remembered her. How was she? Doing very well thank you. Been quite a long time. Yes yes. She laughed uneasily. They would have to meet, that okay by her? Oh sure it was fine. Did she like Chinese? She actually loved it. Seven o clock tomorrow then? That was just fine. Could she text him the details of how to get to hers? She would right away. Settled then. Take care. Take care. Click.
She paused to catch her breath. He sounded so confident then. She steadied herself and began composing the text.
‘In a minute darling. I am nearly done.’
There was one thing unchanged in the voice of ‘the Lollipop’ – his accent. He still called her “Shusan”

Missed Opportunity

What was I thinking?? I had her right there, my goodness! She was sprawled on the bed, spread-eagled, touching my sides with her raised knees. Her parted legs gave me full access to her pubic region where, just a moment ago, I had been exploring, having pushed her panties aside to expose her hairy ‘thing.’ She was staring at me, freezing me stiff with a look that could cut through iron. I gazed back, feeling like a sheep that had inadvertently wandered into a lion’s den. Her hair - thick brunette curls, spread all over the pillow, was the perfect background for her silky smooth face now creased in contours of anger. I lowered my eyes to her breasts – two well shaped mounds reflecting the rays of the early morning sun – and wondered if I would ever suck on them again as I just had. In one swift move she covered all her exposed privates and pushed me further away from her.
‘What do you mean you don’t have condoms? We have waited this long and you did not come prepared? Then what did you come to my bed for? Leave here right now!’
I jumped off the bed to go salvage the situation, sprang into my trousers and flew out of the apartment. There had to be a chemist nearby. I found one after 15minutes, overpaid for three packs of condoms and rushed back. She was in the kitchen making an omelet. I tried to grab her from behind, get things back in the mood.
‘I need time.’ She declared, pushing past me to the living room. I thought she meant a few hours. She actually meant forever. The damage was irreparable. I had courted for months, promised her explosive sex time and again and when I finally had her cornered, I had no condoms.

She last texts conveyed her emotions – ‘I can’t stand a man who isn’t prepared.’ I tried to argue otherwise, that I really wasn’t like that. ‘Well,’ she replied ‘That was the impression you conveyed so learn from this. Because there are never second chances.’