Controlled

She was sitting at the bottom of the stairs with a MacBook on her lap. Hair braided, it fell freely on her beautiful straight shoulders. She was light from the look of her belly. On, she had a checked long-sleeved shirt, blue booty shorts that weren’t clearly visible from her sitting posture and white sneakers. On her ears were these big golden ear rings.

It was a Friday night so I didn’t think that the look was out-of-place even though the stairs she was sitting on were that of her office building. I walked towards her; she was typically sitting at the entrance of the building, said hi (took so much effort) and proceeded inside. Once I was inside, I realized I didn’t even know where the person who had invited me was. He wasn’t picking the phone.

I had to go back and ask her. Something that I didn’t think I would pull off. At all. I can be rather shy at times. So I said Holy Mary and went back. Upon excusing myself I asked whether she knew the guy and because she did, she offered to take me where he was.

It was the room from which the music flooding the whole compound in the upscale quiet neighborhood was emanating from. I was unnerved by her eloquence and friendliness. I can be judgy’ at times and honestly I had categorized her as the snobbish type. She wasn’t. In the place of snootiness was friendliness and a helpful spirit. She made me feel at ease even after being in a room full of complete strangers.

I can’t recall her name solely because it was a polished name. The kind of name that’s in the Oxford dictionary with several meanings. It wasn’t mouthful but edgy and refined.  It was the kind that is given to girls who symbolized something in their parents’ life. Her name was superior, distinguished, unique, inimitable, distinctive and unfortunately too complex for my mind to recollect.

House music was playing from two speakers mounted at opposite sides of the balcony that had been turned into a bar. Everyone was speaking with soft audible tones with the guys holding beer mugs and the ladies clear wine glasses. People were in high spirits and as I went around saying hi to everyone I recognized how different this crowd was from the one in my usual hang out joints.

For one everyone smiled when shaking my hand. Apart from the confidence in the handshakes, they maintained eye contact through the 1 minute or so we exchanged pleasantries.

Two, the ladies, no matter how fine they looked possessed below 0 percent attitude. Unlike Eastlando chics who won’t even say hi because they are wearing some cheap lipstick from River Road, these ladies, with automobiles (hehe) in the parking lot not only said hi but went ahead to ask what I did for a living.

The third reason for the contrast was the music playing. Here, the music was calm. It didn’t need to prove a point. It was confident that its listeners would appreciate its masterpiece genius. It had Chocolate Man’s ego, Gate’s wealth in its lyrics and Carter’s confidence in composure. The music spoke to everyone here (other than me for obvious reasons) because every once in a while people would put their hands in the air and sing along. I just leaned back on the wall and enjoyed the calm.

As the evening proceeded, no one started grinding. Daggering was as foreign to this setting as UK is on matters handling graft. In the place of juking, twerking and freaky dancing, folks played Table Tennis. Yes, Table Tennis.

The sky was clear so the moon was visible trying to fight for significance amidst the billion stars in the skyline. The breeze was cooling the ever-increasing room temperature caused by the awesome company making this the perfect place to pass the evening away from Rambo Kanambo, Vybz and cheap cologne from Muthurwa.

Controlla by Drake kept the night controlled by skipping Beenie Man’s verse.

I was officially sold.

I now understood why it was dubbed a “Cool Kids Only” event.

 

 

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