The boob encounter as the hunt continues

The hunt for a suitable suitor in Nanyuki continues. I have been searching for many months possibly a few years and have not found anything suitable. I have seen some tall ones and some short ones, some small ones and some big ones. I have seen them in the morning as the sun is rising and at dusk when the sun is setting. I have seen them silhouetted against the great mountain and as their shadows stretch out into the plains.

I have seen them dirty and unkempt waiting for someone to give them a make-over and I have been there when they change their make-up. I have once got in through the back door but mostly through the front door. But pray stop ogling and get your head out of the gutter because I am talking about the hunt ………………………………………for a suitable space for a branch of the bank!!

On another note, where is one supposed to look when a lady starts breastfeeding her crying baby in your office as you are giving her details of how to apply for a vehicle loan and what interest rates you are paying on fixed deposits? No kidding, it happened to me earlier today and being in Nyeri I dared not complain lest I get the ‘kichapo ya mbwa’ that Nyeri women are famous for. Do you look at her, at the baby, at the boob or elsewhere?

The problem really is that so long as you are looking at her or at the baby she thinks you are looking at her boob. And if you look at the boob she will know you are looking at the boob. If you look away she will wonder why you are not looking at the boob so you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. In retrospect, she probably and urgently needed the privacy of my office to whip out her mammaries to feed her baby which I guess is pretty much with the same sense of urgency as someone with diarrhea looking for a loo when the urge to go comes and knowing that you have precious little time before the s*** embarrasses you in public! The milk production in lactating mothers (or so I hear) is often similarly triggered by the baby’s hunger cry so what better place to breastfeed than the Bank Manager’s office before the milk gushes out!

You are probably wondering where I looked because after all this was a business opportunity and as she pushed her boob back into place the hungry baby somewhat satiated and she seemingly satisfied with my answers to her questions (possibly just relief that the embarrassing moment had been averted), I had been busy writing down what we required for her to qualify for a loan as well as other useless information that was not really necessary but which I nonetheless wrote down! So if you thought I was looking at her boob I took the easy way out by writing down what I would have ideally have been telling her verbatim just to keep my hands and eyes busy and to afford a potential client a bit of privacy.

So next time you are faced with a boob wielding lady in your office be it in Nyeri or wherever else you will now know what to do. Just pretend that you have a sudden urge to write a long love letter to someone!