Has it really been that long?
I'm sorry, life does that sometimes... It keeps us focused on everything except what matters. These weeks have been really interesting, I keep meeting people who I would love to interview. People with scars and battle stories and it's taken everything I have not to break my promise to myself: no more deep stories this year. I've filled my quota.
So those of you guys who came on to read one of those I'm sorry. Instead I'll tell you a series of embarrassing stories that all happened to me this week. To you they'll be funny but to me, I'm barring my heart and soul.
Interestingly, they all start when I fall. I've fallen six times (that I remember) this week. And stumbled and caught myself many many times. One time I was walking with my friend swinging my arms and everything then I stumbled and she laughed for two days. Sigh.
Anyway, you know how this weather is playing tricks on us, one day it's raining nonstop the next, it's so hot you can feel the sun getting past your hair and not so nicely massaging the soft spot in the middle of your head. It's so hot you start seeing things. One moment it's so cold you have two jackets on the next moment you're stuffing them into your bag.
On that rainy day, I think it was Tuesday, I remember walking in school going to get coffee (sounds fancier than it actually it) and slipping and sliding, of course I wore my non grip shoes, I remember thinking I just want to get through this day without falling. I was walking on a path where most people face when they're eating. Lucky me.
If I fell, I would have an audience of about 30 people. So I tried to walk with extra care, keeping my eyes firmly on the ground, and I... Didn't fall you sadists. I went through the whole day, then at my last stretch, home bound, barely 200 metres to get to my gate and, I fell, in a puddle of watery mud. On my face.
Now I've fallen many times, never on my face. Do you know how hard it is to fall on one's face? It takes almost dedication. Because as reflex, your limbs go out to protect you. And for someone like me, I keep my reflexes on their toes, because of my general clumsiness. So it should be even harder for me to fall on my face but alas, fall on my face I did.
And you might think that's the end of the story, that maybe I made a clean quiet getaway. That I stood, shook it off and walked away. Not in the least. I heard someone scream when I fell, turns out, the only fruit seller around where I live saw me fall and screamed. Which of course alerted everyone around her to my fall. If you can believe it, across the road from the fruit seller is an open bar. Meaning people are basically drinking on the side of the road under those big umbrellas that tables outside usually have.
Those guys see me getting up, realised I fell and they start laughing. I walk away slipping and sliding, because my non grip shoes are wet, hence slidy. And this makes them laugh even more. All-in all, not my best work. Stop cringing, I'm alive, I survived, despite my whole village seeing me fall on my face, I survived. And more importantly I showered.
My second and third time falling weren't as eventful. I fell got up, those who saw the fall took a side between sympathy and mockery and either said sorry or laughed. I wonder how come those are usually the only sides to pick in a situation.
Anyway, My fourth embarrassing moment came from watching someone else. Afer I fell, nobody seemed to notice, well except my friend who was with me. But I wasn't going to feel embarrassed this time. I stood strong and stared straight ahead. Then I saw a man over six feet tall stumble and right themselves then stumble again and fall. I would have laughed just remembering all the memes out there of tall people falling and how accurate all their descriptions are. But the look on his face made me embarrassed on his behalf.
His face changed from normal to bewildered to shocked to defeated. Then I saw, he was walking with a girl.
That would have been even more awkward if they liked each other. Or if it was their first date. What would that guy say if he got up? Would he just ignore the whole situation, make a joke about it or say something weird like.
"Potholes on roads, who comes up with these stuff?" To which the woman would have no reply to.
Or maybe they work together and his story will be all over the office tomorrow, he would be the joke of the day and then they would move on.
My fifth time I twisted my ankle and had to shake it off. Because I was walking with someone, my plan was to act natural. Fake it till I made it, then I got home and found my ankle swollen and some weird colour
I go to my mum (because I'm still a baby) and tell her,
"Muuuuuuuum, my ankle is hurt."
And she looks at me deadpan and asks
"Just your uncle? What about your aunt?"
And I rolled my eyes and limped away.
My sixth time falling was what led me to write this piece to begin with. This was worse than falling on my face methinks.
I was walking in town after dropping off a friend of mine to their stage. Listening to Beethoven's moonlight sonata, I walked to my stage, and if you've heard moonlight sonata,you know it gives you a strange sense of foreboding, like something really bad is about to happen. That should have warned me.
I was about to get off the pavement and cross the street when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Signals cross, like when you want to say two things at the same time then you end up mixing the two.
I do the same thing but with my legs. I take a step with one then the other but the one that took a step forward wants to take a step back and I end up on a heap on the floor. I'm about to get up but clearly not fast enough, because there's a Nduthi speeding towards me. It's on the wrong lane of course but nobody will care if I'm hit. Luckily whoever tapped me on the shoulder pulls me back on the pavement as soon as I get up. And I turn around to see an old friend.
He almost killed me but he also saved me. And it's interesting that it's him because a while back I was looking for him to get an interview. But I'm done with deep stories this year, right? I mean some would argue that this was fate and I'm meant to write this story, right?
Expect a story early next week. Or this week? Is Sunday the last day of the week or the first day of the week? What is a day? Is time just a construct? Hehe, see you.
Comments