Last Saturday was the day Man-u lost to Chelsea; my girlfriend, Becky, asked for some space which my room-mate, Jones, believes is a polite way of dumping me and Chalo, that is me, alias C.K, got very depressed.
I spent part of Sunday morning trying to come up with a most convincing SMS to win Becky back but Jones made sure that none of the messages were sent except for one. Here is a sample of the unsent messages.
One: ‘Becky, we have dated for more than three years. Even before we joined campus my mom knew you. I have loved you since high-school and……………..’ No, too much feelings.
Two: ‘Baby why do you listen to other people and you don’t even believe me. It has hurt me soo……….’ No, too girly.
Three: ‘I feel so hurt. I hate you so much right now! You have just been wasting my time!...............” No, too vicious, I might get sued.
Four: ‘I know the main reason why you dumped me is because I‘m from the village, but then again, so is you……...
This was the point at which Jones snatched the phone from me and gave me one of his philosophical lectures.
“When cornered you don’t play defense. You play offence!” he stated as he went through my phone.
‘Ping!’ my phone sounded off. I knew that sound: it was a delivery report. I jumped to my feet and grabbed the phone from him. The text was still there; he had not yet had time to delete it.
‘If you cannot trust me then there is no point in us dating. Go date your informers!! NKTEST!’ Delivered to Becky at 10.30…… Jones had just played offence. Now I really felt like hitting him.
As if on cue, my phone vibrated hard against my palm. I couldn’t believe Becky was replying so soon. I glanced at the screen apprehensively. Surprisingly it wasn’t Becky; it was Sophie, the fictitious participant in my love triangle.
“Hey dear!” I said after picking up.
“Are you ready for Keshos CAT?” she asked after exchanging a few pleasantries.
“What CAT?” I had clearly forgotten.
“Calculus 2. Usiseme umesahau.” She mockingly laughed.
“Oh my God!” was all I could say.
“Am also not ready.” She tried to console me. “Si we have a discussion group tonight then?”
“My place or your place? I asked.”
“Your place. Ten o’clock. See yah!” she hung up.
This would be interesting. Now I really need to find out who has been feeding lies to Becky.
No comments:
Post a Comment