Bad bachelor: Did I end up a two-timing ‘mzee’?

My name is Art Amacho, six-foot-tall, early 30s and the ultimate ‘bad boy’.

Or so I like to tell myself, although real life often boomerangs on us bachelors.

For those who’ve been ‘following’ me fortnightly, first the good news. I won’t have to be moving out of my Bedlam Apartment digs, at least for the next three months.

God touched the heart of the loaded retired Kisii army boss who owns several apartment blocks. Apparently he got Covid-19 stuck in Minneapolis, then actually got struck by the Corona. 

Mercifully, the old geezer recovered. Having been himself spared by God, ole dude decided to give us a three month rent moratorium, until September First.

It is in the spirit of the ‘new normal’ that I, Art Amacho, advertising executive extraordinaire, am now seeing two new women I ordinarily would not date, if it weren’t for this corona era.

One is the bar-stall lady owner called Lucia, the one who is light, sweet, fun and petite. The other is the salonist called Sonia, who is big and brown and curvy, with an angel’s touch.

Before you get all judgmental, boss, remember these two women are in ESSENTIAL SERVICES.

Covid-19 in this time has rendered alcohol an essential for men, and looking good from salon the Lord’s service for our women.

Anyway, the arrangement, which neither one has no idea about, is that one woman comes to spend one night over at my ‘Gravity’ crib, and the other woman spends over the next night.

Every third day, I spend all alone, because it is good for a man to have ‘me time’ in his cave, but also to recharge manly batteries.

And although Lucia’s bar stall is right across the road from Bedlam, Sonia’s salon is safely far away at the shopping centre. Show-time!

I always assumed dating women of humbler background/ lower career class would be cheap.

So last Friday night, drunk on Lil Lucia’s wines and ‘spirits,’ I bragged to her how in the month of May, my boss Cynthia Worm had only cut 15 percent of my pay (after I threatened to quit over the unfair higher 30 per cent, which I’d actually arranged to).

Next morning, Lucia borrowed a ‘loan’ of Sh20, 000 from me to stock her bar stall. Woiye, aki sweetie!

Sato I spent alone, so Sunday is the night that Sonia came over, with all her delicious ‘charms.’

On Madaraka Day, feeling grateful, I decided to take her for some small shopping at the mall.

I’m thinking I will spend some loose Sh5, 000, but lo and behold, we are in a section with salon appliances.

Sonia ni nani, she has ordered some appliance that cooks women’s hair, and I have no sweat with that. What concerns me is that it costs a whopping 25 grand.

And she has already told the attendant to pack it, ‘mpenzi wangu mzee ata lipa ...’

I’m not yet even 33, so who is she calling mzee?

Thaz when it hits me – Art Amacho has unwittingly become a sponsor to two hardcore women who provide ‘essential services’. Not for free!

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