Let the Hunter be!

Clubbing in Nairobi in the middle of the month presents a diverse picture.  Men would rather hold their bottles near them and dancing on the seats while the ladies are the majority on the dance floor.

I really did understand the men; in this recessive environment buying drinks to a person not accounted for is really an exception. In any case everyone knows club ladies have this fondness with exotic brands that cost a fortune not to mention the cost of transportation through taxis. The taxi men fearing for their lives have added a premium to their cost which makes clubbing even more expensive.

But being a man who loves dancing I hit the dance floor ready to interact with the ladies. Being the only fisherman in the sea, I was spoilt for choice. I immediately settled for an executive looking gal with a classic face and pure complexion.

“Can I have this dance,” I said as the DJ changed to my favourite ragga tunes.

“Sure,” she replied. “By the way I am Stacie.” In huff I told her who I was. I wanted to roll in tandem to her movies so I avoided a long chat. But she was not done.  She started asking questions about where I worked, about my hood, whether that was my favourite hang out place and on and on.

As a rule if I meet a girl the first time on the dance floor, I am not usually keen to know a lot about them.  If I am impressed I just ask for their numbers at the end of the night and Safaricom have a lot to thank me for that.  Anyway so this girl kept on with her talk mostly about her work.  I was just about to tell her that I was not looking for a wife but just a dance-mate for the night.  In any case I was the one to ask her about her details not the other way round.

As a guy when you meet a lady for the first time, you don’t concentrate on asking her personal details. You just capture the fun of the moment and talk about pleasurable stuff, and then the other personal information you glean them over as the conversation continues. I excused myself  and later on headed to some other part of the club where a lithe girl, not so much attractive but at least signaled that if I had the courage to match her moves I could follow her to the floor.  I liked that, at least I could tiger my way around!