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Monday, February 7, 2011


Just outside sarit there is a lady who sells credit I used to use that route all the time to go to school so I became quite familiar with her. No I did not get to know her in the biblical sense I don’t think I even know her in the sense that if she saw me she would recognize me. I was just one of her regular customers. The reason I’m writing about her is because next to her in her little booth there was always this guy. They seemed to be in the most loving of relationships. She would sell credit and read a book; she always had a book of some kind. A novel, I think they were always romance. The only reason I think they were romance is because I can’t remember even one title of the books and I don’t read romance so either that or self help.

He would chill with her all the time. They didn’t engage in deep soulful searching conversation or seem unable to keep their hands off each other like the characters in her books. But they always seemed so content. They couldn’t be more than 28 years old but they seemed to have reached this deep understanding about their relationship that people don’t usually or at all. And I never thought selling credit was enough of an occupation to keep 2 adults in the red, enough for one of them to hang up his boots and just keep her company so the only thing that makes sense is that they actually ate love. Sometimes we mess with happiness by wanting too much I guess.

This would have been an excellent segue to anything. Unfortunately it just seems to be a segue to using the word segue which is one of the least used amazing English words. I almost used awesome there which is definitely one of the most used words in the language right now. Ok maybe not right now but a year ago you couldn’t listen to a movie for any length of time without coming across the word like a land mine in the space between east and West Germany. I remember as a child I read any number of espionage novels and when the moment came when the spy or hero had to sneak across the Berlin wall to save the day or see his long lost family he didn’t make deals with men of vague oriental origin involving dreams and limbo but hired one of these kids who had crammed the route that took one through the minefield to the other side. And these books seemed so realistic I have no choice but to believe there was an actual occupation like this. There were children who could snake across a mine field and when I think of this I remember that old computer game called mine field. Where you had to click on squares till the whole field had been navigated through. Then there were random numbers on the edges of the boxes that supposedly said how many mines there were in the vicinity. That was a hard game.

More like dumb luck really. The other day I got off at the wrong Matatu stage. This is because we moved recently and one of the stages looks exactly like the one for where we live. No luck there just me being dumb.

Another thing since I started writing regularly my thumb hurts all the time. Not all the time but every time I hit the space bar which is a lot. Thinking about the space bar right now has made me use it more than strictly necessary. I have a feeling there doesn’t have to be a space between space and bar but I hit it every time like I was going for a jackpot. Do people actually win at casinos, how? I read a book about dinosaurs recently, the lost world a sequel to the Jurassic park. There was this whole exposition of chaos theory. In it the doctor said that over time everyone loses. If you flip a coin enough times it doesn’t matter you end up losing so it’s all a big con.
There was a time I attracted con artists like flies. Not that I attract flies or anything like that. The fact that I know you can’t feel them when they walk on your feet just above your sole should also not be an indication to the contrary just an indication of my powers of perception. Anyway the con would usually go like this a guy would have the winning tickets for a lottery. However he was from upcountry and he couldn’t cash it in because he had lost his identity card. All he needed was help, you could go with the ticket and cash it for him and he would wait patiently for your eventual return and break off some bread for you. But he needed some security, could you leave your phone with him in the meantime?

And coming to the end of the post I think i found my segue, the little things we forget.