It started as a fairly normal Sunday, following the standard routine of a large artery clogging breakfast followed by an hour on the pews listening to a hearty summon, and putting in petitions for a better week ahead. Depending on energy levels, we usually find a spot for the kids to play and for us to imbibe cold frothy drinks. So off we went in search of a place that would accommodate us, and luckily secured a spot at a joint we had never tried before…and should not have.
The crowd here was a notch above my usual joint. It somewhat looked like someone was hosting high tea and only the la-de-da of Nairobi’s society were invited. Never the less, we found a spot and settled in, ordering pizzas, Tuskers and Vodkas to wind down the week. As always, I enjoy people watching and this crowd was as entertaining as the food channel. The women were dressed in all colors, and I mean all of them. Hats were wider than Saturn’s rings, and hem lines barely kissed anyone’s knees. It’s as if Maxi dresses had been banned here, I bloody well looked like everyone’s mother in my matronly church attire and flat sandals, most of the women here were in sky high wedges and were pulling them off like pros!
Having gotten slightly inebriated, and tired of chasing after the boys, I decided to watch them from the shade of my table and issue warnings that would be ignored with a drink in my hand. My person watching was now limited to the play area where this pretty young thing was minding her daughter. She was by all standards very easy on the eyes, and had on the cutest dresess I had ever seen. Beautiful corseted around her bosom and waist, and it opened up elegantly to form a gentle dome that (in line with the restaurants dress code) went nowhere near her knees. Which was just as well because she had pins that were worth the attention they were getting, long and nicely curved… Tina Turner like if you please. So she and her young giggled and sang, and she continued pushing her on the swings much to everyone’s delight, or so I thought. Until she decided to turn around and pick up her baby .
I did not know where to look.
The dress that was so cute at the front was disastrously short at the back. Disastrously short! What I did not expect, given her rather slender upper body was the mammoth posterior that this girl carried, and clearly neither did whomever designed the dress. The hem line that was borderline decent at the front was an assault on the eyes at the back, why you ask? Because her more than ample derriere lifted the dress upwards, and her hips stretched it further making what should have been a knee length dress a micro mini. What was worse, she insisted on bending over and carrying her daughter, providing X rated views for anyone with eyes, and not giving a toss about who was watching. The bloody cheek of her! This is a play area damn it!
Given her demeanor, her cellulite free buttery looking skin with no blemish whatsoever, I would say this here lass was putting on a deliberate show. Now that she had caught my attention, and that of several other tables much to the chagrin of most wives who now insisted that the husbands sit facing away from the “sun”, she was on the hunt. Her shwee shwee dress, swayed with the slightest movement or breeze. She wore no ring on her finger, and implied innocence in her ballet flats and braiding her Brazilian weave into pigtails. I wondered how long she had been carrying on this charade, and for how much longer she would get away with it. Surely, exposing that much skin, posterior skin nonetheless should be illegal before 5 p.m.
I had had enough of the show, and couldn’t be bothered to have mine face away from the “sun”, so we packed up and went home. An hour or two early than we normally did, because porn should not be watched in broad daylight!