Elections money pulls Carol closer to me
Feb 20, 2011
STUPID, foolish, strategic, … I really don’t know how I can describe myself. This girl, Carol, my neighbour, actually made me escort her and her man to Club Silk. She swore Roger, the guy of the Mercedes, was just a friend. So why didn’t she sit with me in the back seat? Why did she and Roger
STUPID, foolish, strategic, … I really don’t know how I can describe myself. This girl, Carol, my neighbour, actually made me escort her and her man to Club Silk. She swore Roger, the guy of the Mercedes, was just a friend. So why didn’t she sit with me in the back seat? Why did she and Roger wiggle together almost throughout the night?
Anyway, that cost me a big chunk of a night’s sleep, in which I concluded that maybe they were not so tight. Why didn’t he sleep over at Carol’s place? Or why didn’t Carol go to his place? Maybe I still had a chance. I had to do something, and very fast. Valentine’s Day was due. My village MP had given me sh500,000 to facilitate ten home guys to travel back home for voting. I, instead, gave each sh30,000 and bagged sh200,000. My sister convinced me that any woman would fancy red on a Valentine’s date. That is how, that evening, I delivered a surprise sh200,000 dress to Carol.
But rather than jump into my embrace in ecstasy, she left me sitting alone in a chair, glued to some TV soap. To show my dissatisfaction, I announced that I was leaving. She grudgingly turned away from her TV soap to hug me briefly. “Bambi, thanks for the gift. Don’t think I ignored you. I just love this series, Kyle XY. You should watch it,’’ she said and promised to be my Valentine. As Monday approached, the inside of me thumped. I actually expected her to change her mind. Then she appeared. But she was not in the dress I bought her. She was in a black bubble dress.
“I hope I won’t bore you today,†she said. “It has to be perfect, right? By the way, I haven’t put on the red dress. I do not like red. I have a phobia for red as a colour…â€
Continues next week
Anyway, that cost me a big chunk of a night’s sleep, in which I concluded that maybe they were not so tight. Why didn’t he sleep over at Carol’s place? Or why didn’t Carol go to his place? Maybe I still had a chance. I had to do something, and very fast. Valentine’s Day was due. My village MP had given me sh500,000 to facilitate ten home guys to travel back home for voting. I, instead, gave each sh30,000 and bagged sh200,000. My sister convinced me that any woman would fancy red on a Valentine’s date. That is how, that evening, I delivered a surprise sh200,000 dress to Carol.
But rather than jump into my embrace in ecstasy, she left me sitting alone in a chair, glued to some TV soap. To show my dissatisfaction, I announced that I was leaving. She grudgingly turned away from her TV soap to hug me briefly. “Bambi, thanks for the gift. Don’t think I ignored you. I just love this series, Kyle XY. You should watch it,’’ she said and promised to be my Valentine. As Monday approached, the inside of me thumped. I actually expected her to change her mind. Then she appeared. But she was not in the dress I bought her. She was in a black bubble dress.
“I hope I won’t bore you today,†she said. “It has to be perfect, right? By the way, I haven’t put on the red dress. I do not like red. I have a phobia for red as a colour…â€
Continues next week