THE CITY GIRL: Ladies, is a 'sponsor' really worth it?

Today I walked into one of these classy restaurants in town, I do that once in a while so I can clutter my house with expensively branded receipts. I ordered water, it's the only thing I could buy at the moment, also ordered a soda before and walked home feeling robbed, cheated and fighting tears.

So today I fixed myself in a corner where I could observe people indulging in expensive habits and watch them flinch as they paid their bills. In walked this city girl. I call them city girls because I'd be hunted down and crucified if I called them otherwise. She had generous makeup on her face with one of those big hairstyles that look like an umbrella from behind, don't judge me, it's a personal opinion. She chose to sit at a table next to mine without knowing how much I love putting my nose into people’s businesses.

What really drew me to look at her were the big sunglasses she had on. I wondered how she could see through them inside the restaurant, but who knows, she might have had super eyesight or must have been carrying her own very big sun in her very big bag. I won't talk about the bag because it'd be rude of me to say I thought she must have had her whole house in there.

So the waiter brought her the menu and smiled nicely at her, in a way she didn't smile at me, maybe it's cause I walked in in dusty rubber shoes and rugged jeans. Now my girl got into perusing the menu before her. Sometimes I think many pages on a menu are meant to torment. The waiter came to take her order severally but she kept waving her off. I concluded that she might have had a really unique appetite to have to choose what to eat for that long. She signaled the waiter and now I knew our food was coming. I call it our because I’d dedicate my time to watch her eat.

I was disappointed when she asked for the WiFi password instead. The waiter didn't seem very happy to serve her but she gave it to her anyway. I was beginning to feel a little disappointed when this man walked in, looked lost lost for a split second, then walked to her table. One look at him and I knew he was her father, or her father's elder brother because, well because he wasn't young enough to be her classmate. That explained to my investigative mind why she didn't want to order before, I remembered the saying ‘a family that eats together goes home together.’

 

So daddy grabbed a seat next to her and summoned the waiter. He must have known his way around here because he didn't even look at the menu. This was going to be a boring expensive water-drinking session. So the waiter got to their table and waited for the order. At least she was smiling again. “Letea yeye chips na kuku na soda ya sprite na mimi unipee maji moto ya ndimu,” said daddy. Now that caught my attention. Daddy didn't waste time it seemed. I looked at miss baibes and she wasn't happy about the order. She was looking very hard into her phone though big shades.

 

So daddy pulls his chair closer to her and puts a wrinkled hand around her. He leaned over to her and brushed her hair aside. She was sinking in her chair. That's when I got the picture. Maybe daddy wasn't daddy after all. Their orders came and she got busy, fork digging into fries with something close to anger. I could tell she hated her food - every bit. Eavesdropping, I overheard their conversation. Also he was asking her if the phone he bought her was giving her trouble. He gave her directions to the guest house they'd go to after their meals. He also told her he loved being with her last time and the time before that. He was running his fingers on her face. And all these time, she was shrinking and eating furiously, amidst nodding and throwing timid glances around.

 

After a while, he called for the bill and could see the waiters nudging each other ruefully. I guess they were used to these kind of clients. He paid the bill before she finished her food and stood to leave. “Naenda kubook room, nikikupigia simu ukuje haraka. Si umesema unajua ni wapi”). He hurriedly planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, deleting half an eyebrow in the process and squeezed her bosom rather ungentlemanly. I tried not to look at her but I care. I wanted to see if she was fine, I knew I wouldn't have lasted a second if I went through such an ordeal.

She was fine it seemed, she even straightened her shoulders, she relaxed and sat upright. She shot me a look, looked at my bottle of water and I got the message, I needed to mind my manners. She ate the rest of her food like a proper girl. Like she had paid for it and earned every bit of it. The waiters were watching her with some expression I couldn't register, I know they'd say the same about mine. I didn't know what to feel for her.

I didn't want it to trouble me, after all she had had a full meal while I sipped water. Later when she stood to leave, she did it with so much gait that for a second I forgot she wasn't going back to her office or something. She had made my afternoon and I knew I wouldn't forget her. I thought as I put my expensively branded, almost perfumed receipt in my wallet. Another one into my collection.