Being single is fun. That I can’t deny. Being a single lady in Nairobi more so has taught me a lot about relationships and sex. See being single comes with its perks; like having the freedom to go to concerts, events, dates, drinks…you name it, I go for them all. I’ve also gotten a lot of lessons and experiences to share – so much so that I can write a best seller – but let me just share this one experience I had a while back.
I have seen the good, the bad and the ugly when it comes to sex. As a single woman, I have found myself with sexual urges depending on my mood. I sometimes wanted to kick off my shoes after a long day and just have a guy ravish me as soon as we get into the house. Other times I wanted him to take me out on a date where he could buy dinner and a bottle of wine, then let the wine take me away as he carries me in his arms into the bedroom. Other times I really craved passionate love-making where we could even cuddle afterwards. I mean, who doesn’t want to be graciously spooned once in a while? Unfortunately, most of the time some of these situations end up with you getting into some sort of relationship or worse still, a ‘situationship’ and who has the time for that? Not me!
So, back to my desires. My golden rule back then was never to go to a hotel to have sex. I have a couple of reasons why I don’t.
One: I find it cheap and annoying to have to overpay for a room that has starchy sheets which reek of Jik just for us to have maybe an hour or so of sex.
Two: Imagine the number of bedbugs you’d carry back home, especially from those ‘kawaida’ motels that people go to during their lunch break. No thank you!
Three: I never go to the guy’s house because in my mind all men cheat or are married and I don’t want a situation where I’m clutching my clothes, shoes and bag as I desperately try to run away from a woman with a knife in her hand as she wakes up the whole plot screaming how I’m such a homewrecker. Ah ah. I’m too grown for that drama.
So that leaves my house. Don’t get me wrong, you will not find a hot meal waiting for you. My house is not a bed and breakfast. It is a place where I am comfortable having sex. See, I also have control issues. I love it when a man comes to my house and when I get fed up, I can always ask him to leave…plus it strokes my ego when I get to watch the man search for his underwear and his shirt all over the house. Reverse roles, right?
Normally, when a man comes to my house, they bring their own condoms. The confident ones bring two packets even when they clearly know they won’t get the first packet. Others bring one, which implies that it touches and go for them, no second rounds. Some walk in there like I manufacture condoms and they will have to drive back for some, even though my bedroom drawer has over 15 packets and 6 different brands. Lol.
This one fine evening, a certain gentleman I had known for a while offered to bring lunch and a bottle of wine (he was already scoring points on so many levels) but then he proceeded to ask, “My condoms are still there, right? This is where the confusion came in. The last time I saw him was 2 months ago. I could not remember for the life of me the brand or the number he had used or left at my place.
Now, this was a trick question because these men are actually bright. In my mind, I’m thinking this guy had suspected I had used the condoms with someone else or he either wanted to confirm that I hadn’t been with anyone else since the last time I saw him. Either way, if I was right or wrong with my suspicions, this would be one hell of a night for me.
Racking my brain trying to remember what brand he had brought or used, I quickly remembered that we had used 2 the last time so there should be a packet with one remaining. I excused myself and ran up to my room and one checking my bedside drawers, I found 3 different varieties with one condom remaining on each. Oh hell! I decided to just come clean in case he asked, even if that would mean that the night would sadly go south. Besides, what’s the worst he could do? Call me a slut even when I knew that I wasn’t one and walk out of my own house? Be my guest.
The fine young gentleman came upstairs and I sat there at the edge of my bed, ready for the inevitable to happen when he smiled as he took two packets of condoms from his coat pocket. I was ecstatic, believe me, but I had also learnt my lesson. Now, I have a new golden rule: I label boxes as soon as the owners leave. Some will expire because the owners are not in my phone book anymore and some will just lay there and hope their owners come back again. But for now, the active ones remain.
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***PS. Single lady in Nairobi is a collection of real-life stories and opinions from different women. It looks at the current world of dating in Kenya and the experiences that ladies have gone through. The views and opinions expressed here are those of the contributors and do not necessarily represent or reflect the views of Potentash.com.
