Of Dogs and Christmas

Maybe I am just plain dumb, may be it is cultural ignorance, or perhaps a proportionate combination of both. I am incredulous that people will go to any lengths to please their pets. Seriously , do you think a dog merits special gifts to commemorate the birth of Jesus? I was thoroughly amused to receive an e-mail from my buddy, who was asked for advise by a mzungu:

"now x-mas is almost here,, need to get a present for my dog,, its really stressing me out,, i dont know whether to get him lil booties,[or] a coat,, or this really cute diamante leash,, or a china dish,, or what,,mmhmm dilemna dilemna,, u got any ideas?"

I am not suggesting that they should instead donate that money for charity in Africa or whatever, merely questioning the notion that a mere mongrel can usurp the position of upright walking homo sapiens as a companion.

Would I be overreacting if I suggested that this borders towards abhorrent?

If the shoe fits ...

What the **** ???

As is the norm on Friday, I woke up this morning with a wide grin on my face. Hopped up in the shower whistling my favourite Kenyan and rap songs, willing the day to be boring so I can make up an excuse to make up later tonight . Then disaster struck ...

Like a popsicle lying on a sidewalk in the summer heat, my smile and psyche melted into oblivion. As I rode the escalator at the train station, these 2 ladies kept looking at me, then giggling. Ideas of a threesome were racing through my head ... how naive of me ...

It wasn't until I got off the escalator that it hit me. I became conscious that I had an unnatural bounce, like I was taller on the left side than on the right side. Then I looked down. Holy cow !! I wore two %*&# different shoes . I have no idea how this happened, it's not like I was dressing in the dark.

I am presently in a dilemma. Do I stick in my cubicle all day ? Do I go on normally, in the hope that people will look me in the face, not in the shoes? Do I wear my "gangsta face" - the I know, so what face?

Between a Rock and a Hard Place ...

I am starting to doubt what my high school biology teacher taught me:

“Two different species cannot mate and produce a viable offspring…”

Ms. Tago, I beg to differ, with all due respect. I have perceived exactly such mating in the last few weeks, and it seems to be rather viable.

Do you know the resultant variant of fusion between E. coli and Salmonella?

I might not have a name for it, but I damn sure know what it does:

•  It’s like clockwork; the attack starts exactly two hours after you arrive at work, no sooner, no later

•  It’s impossible to ignore the call for the # 2. It doesn’t need your permission anyways, it’s an involuntary action – like breathing, like your heartbeat

•  The aforementioned #2 is NEVER peaceful. (If you've ever blocked an exhaust pipe while the engine was running and then released after sometime, u will know what I mean)

•  As if that’s not enough, the said #2 obeys the limit of 1/x as x approaches 0. It is undefined. What am saying is that you can never tell when the said #2 is done with you for the day, even though you think you are done with it, you may summarize ur bness, wash your hands, and just as you think you are done, colisalmonella tells you 2 hold that thought …

•  If the State Department was in charge of ur #2 station, the travel advisory they issued on Nairobi would seem like a day after they are done with the said #2 station. They’d simply say “high, irreparable toxicity levels”

•  When you come out of colisalmonella’s thralldom, you look emaciated, dehydrated, deflated, dejected, and are most certainly affected …

Now, under normal circumstances, I would not have any problems coping my own way with the above symptoms except for the fact that:

• The #2 station is directly outside, and in full view of the Front Desk Attendant's desk @ work.

• The stations above and below our suite all demand keys to employ their use

• EVERY time I enter, there is always someone with his own "problems" in the neighboring stall in the station

• Enter the mind games: After you have tore through your # 2 station (and s’times ur ass in the process), there is NO way you are coming out when ANYONE is there for a #1, specially if they entered mid-flight … As for the guy with his own "problems" in the neighboring stall, he either leaves before me or I ain’t coming out … else he’ll be peeping through the stall door’s crack 2 try and ID me ..hell no... u came in first so u get out b4 me, after all it wasn’t exactly pleasant when I walked in …

• If you manage 2 solve all the above, there is still the little issue of approaching footsteps just as you step out of the stall … it will be none 2 clear who caused the damage

• And then, the most difficult to solve is the little matter of the Front Desk Attendant. She/he saw you walking out, and unless they are on break when u come back, can you live with them knowing (on a regular basis) that u spend @ least 1/3hrs?? I can’t …

I have had to adopt various solutions 2 try and ameliorate the above problems:

• Upon entering the station, since I already know I’ll be there a minimum of 25, I just take a nap and “let it rain” Afterall, it’s involuntary ...

• If I happen 2 exit my stall and hear footsteps, vroommm… I quickly dart to the #1 station, dat way by the tyme the guy is entering, am “shaking it after use”… and can’t be embarrassed for the “state of the oxygen” in the station

• If by misfortune I exit @ the same time as the colleague with his "problem" next station, I just smile at him and say “Either we are on the same breakfast schedule” or “Our metabolic rates are eerily similar” … talk about breaking the ice …

• As for the Desk Attendant, sometimes I pretend to be on the phone as I exit, or I slither along the wall out of his/her view, down the staircase, and burn $ 2.09 on a Venti Brewed Coffee @ the starbucks downstairs … (rather costly solution)

• Some peeps' are soo shten they just pass by his/her desk, ask 4 the day’s Washington Post, and proceed to wreck havoc, then return the paper while "parking mini-coopers in their garages” … no wonder I read newspapers online …\

Now if u’ll excuse me I gotta go,,,