The phone rings, now for the third time in quick succession, the ringtone is indigenous and lacks the digital generation touch. Most of my close associates have tried to do an improvement on it, fortunately or unfortunately it has always stood out to be the best on my ringtone list. I reluctantly pick it up, place it on my right ear with style and remain dumb as always.

This is a Friday evening and this must be a ritual call, a call to answer to the needs of a Furahi day member. The voice is barely audible, in the background a loud music, ‘thii ukiumaga’ is playing. I could tell that he is holed somewhere in downtown, a straw in his mouth seeping from the honey pot of its cold and bitter contents. I could rightly make a guess that he was not the only beneficiary of this honeypot… probably… he must have been sandwiched between three or so slay queens from this part of the world (green eye pencil replacing the freshly shaved eyelashes). On the other side of the wooden table, three or so young men by the fact of their actual age though older by their looks licked the contents of the pot, their faces glowing after every successful sip.

I hated this part of the world, smelling all the stench and a home to all evils and sins on the face of the earth.

I patiently waited on the line as he fumbled with words making the same request that he has devotedly put across, same day, same time…probably for three years now. He never seems to learn from experience, the day has always been perfect but the timing, off the grid. I looked up, eight minutes past eight was the time as per the newly acquired clock on the wall. ‘let’s meet in two hours’ time, same place as ever’ I managed to fumble. Before I could hang up I managed to hear a thank you said in a quick succession.

Two things needed to be done before the scheduled meeting, first and foremost was to have my desk; have sticky notes on my desktop listing all the things that needed to be addressed first thing Monday morning. The second thing was actually the task at hand; bidding my cutie an early goodnight at our usual coffee joint in town and having her drive home all by herself in the dark night, all by herself amid the sobs. She is now five months into pregnancy and have been persistently requesting that I spend the Friday nights with her…am yet to give in to her requests but before I do, several beers await me at my favorite joint, usual meeting place. The dance floor is half empty, all yearning for the arrival of the dance floor king, just to sooth the mood into a dance.  Just a dance.  Several queens ready to bounce and hit, no …ready to bounce and slay, all on the edges of their seats. Right, left and right, their eyes roam as if in preparation to cross a busy highway. Dear friend, this is just in preparation of the mighty entrance…the entrance of the dance king.


13 thoughts on “THE DANCE KING

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