“Nikusaidiaje Chief” (How can help you chief), asked the watchman; okay security guard; as I just cleared the 2 steps into the building. These guys always amuse me with the things they say and ask. Maybe its a tactic to deter loiters. I imagine to myself that they probably get into  trouble with the coastal women-folk, the buibui clad women who have a mastery of the put-you-in-your-place tongue lash. I can’t help but chuckle under my breath

“Wait do i look like I’m loitering?” I quickly scan myself, “naah, nothing loiter-ish about my appearance today”

“Hapana soja, niko sawa, asante” I assure the soja, probably leaving him wondering why I was smiling to myself from his question. I can feel him staring at my head, and probably thinking he should have scanned me with those metal-detecting things of theirs. “he can sort himself out” I mutter and head on my way.

I head towards the stairs ignoring the now familiar smell of vet drugs and supplies. Its a big room or rather space with shelves stacked with all sorts of items and sacks on the ground. The stairs are actually those cross breed types- like it was to be a spiral stairway but not really and is some what straight, then on ascending you keep curving along the wall. It’s steep steps not making it any better.

On getting to the floor above, it the usual scene; typical of our front-counter shops. Customers lined up on one side trying to catch the eye of the many female attendants who keep zig-zagging across the room on the other side of the counter. Zooming in and out of the shelves lined with boxes and packets of various sizes and shapes.

“By the end of the day I bet they would have walked the equivalent distance of Mombasa to Kilifi or there about” that voice in my head confidently asserts.

At the other end of the table, is a computer work station where they regularly check the  product codes and print out the invoice/receipt and what not. They (the uniformed ladies) tend to crowd there a little longer, I guess its hard to find the letter ‘e’ after the zig-zag dance across the room.

Just before the counter on the left end of the “room” was a low lying (coffee) table and a young lady leaning over it, her small fingers busy writing on an order book, transferring things from a shopping list of some sort.

“Hello! she is new here. Haven’t seen her the last time I was around here”

Her face was as bright and glowy as her bosom. She had a young face, pretty and her bosom too.

“Okay!… enough with the bosom!”.

But I couldn’t help it, even if I wanted I could not not see the bosom. Okay I could, if I closed my eyes and if or when I addressed her, I talked with my eyes closed. Plus my height was giving me an undue ad vantage-point, over the bosom and glowy face .

‘Scribble, scribble, scribble… tear off the page. start another one’ Just like a stage performance she went on.

“Please don’t address me please don’t address…” I kept saying to myself. But you know the way things go, what you wish not to happen, actually happens just to show you who’s boss.

She then looks up slightly and smiles at me, a warm smile that makes the glow even more. She was probably in the lower quintile of her 20s, maybe. Miss Glow will definitely kill many without trying hard, and she will certainly make this very difficult if she comes to be the one to attend to me.

So I do the only sensible thing. I move away. And slowly,  towards the counter while also trying to squeeze a smile so that hers doesn’t go to waste.

“Take one last look at the glow, she knows you saw her glows” Curse! this brain of mine.

Getting to the counter, I don’t bother to hustle to get through to the front , no worries I just wallow in the scent of the pharmaceuticals, paper and money. I’m in no hurry to get the attention of the zig-zagging ladies, nor get to the counter. Why? I don’t know! Probably because I have not yet decided how I will ask what I want to ask.

“Ooh why do I have to be tall?” I avoid eye contact with the female attendants, as I try to look preoccupied as if to recall what brought me here.

Sasa! sema…?

I’m brought back to my senses, only to realize that I’m the one at the counter, and on the other end who but Miss “Glowy”! I’m dazed, I quickly look back wondering when and how did she finish her scribbling and get back to this other side of the room. She smiles at my reaction, probably noticing my confused look. She seems pleased with her self, enjoying my reaction to her flash-Gordon like actions.

“Ooh such pretty hands and tiny fingers she has”  Okay how did I move from recovering from the shock to noticing her hands? Then they say men cannot multi-task!

“Ooh Hi, you’re chap chap” I respond back, gesturing behind me with my left hand.

Another smile.

“Okay, so I would like aaa aah… uummm, where is it..”  I stretch my neck as if trying to see something that had just been brought onto the counter.

aaiiii, haiko” (not there), I respond.

“I would like a dewormer”.

I didn’t notice I had whispered, till I saw her face blank out, she then moved slightly towards me and half way through, seemed to have gotten what I wanted, and leaned back.

“Maybe she also can read lips”…I don’t know, maybe.

She turns around, hesitated for a few seconds. Probably “trying to remember the aisle where my order may be at” …yeah maybe.

And they still glowed, the face and bosom in unison.

It probably would have been easier to buy this



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