My most memorable valentines didn’t involve a candlelight dinner under the stars or pretentious red outfits. It actually started with my mother holding a bra at the bank and my father looking at me in a very suspicious manner as the bra was mine. My visibly irate father had tried his best to keep his cool as we sat at the banker’s desk. We were there to open my account and the sky had fallen on my heavily pimpled face when my mother pulled out a bra from my bag while looking for a pen. Here is part 1 – Sorry, Mum, That Bra Is My Girlfriends Valentine’s Day Gift!
I didn’t like the banker’s attitude, something about his face seemed to enjoy how uncomfortable and awkward I was. My father on the side was livid! He paced so fast as we left the bank that I had to fashion an awkward run/walk movement to match his speed.
“Do you know how much we sacrifice for you to have a good education!!” my father said while trying to catch his breath. All that pacing had done a number on his old, overweight body.
I was trying to arrange my thoughts when my mother suddenly angrily flashed the bra across my face and said, ” you mean all you can think about is breasts!! If you are such a grown man, leave home and pay your own fees!”
All I could do was stand there like a chicken that had been rained on and face the music. The lecture went on about how I was disrespectful and how I wanted to impregnate all the women around campus. As all this was happening, they never even once, ask why I was in possession of the bra. If they had, I would have told them the truth, that it was a valentine gift to Lizz, my girlfriend.
After a few minutes of stern talking, my father ended with his trademark phrase, “nonsense!!”. Despite their anger, I was given a thousand shillings, the bra was disposed inside a nearby dustbin and they left. The only glimpse of hope I had was that my family never keeps grudges. I just had to give them some time to calm down and everything would be back to normal. What about the bra though?
I will admit that I am not the most romantic person in the world. Neither am I the most creative. It would, therefore, explain why I went back to the boutique to buy another bra with the thousand I had been given; maybe I am not that smart either.
I kept going back to the moment my mother flashed the bra on my face. Seeing it in the light made me rethink the size I had picked. Liz didn’t seem like a medium-size as I had thought, she must have been large. So, I bought a size large bra with pink ribbons. It looked better than the first one.
Fearing that my valentines had been jinxed by the encounter with my parents, I went straight home and waited for my love to arrive. It was gratifying yet sad to see my neighbours seated bored and loveless on valentine’s day. I pitied them, poor lonely guys.
Lizz arrived earlier than expected, she gave me a passionate kiss on her way in and said she had a surprise for me. “Me too babe, you can go first though” I was nervous and sweaty, this was the first time I was giving a gift to a girl I cared about. She gave me yet another passionate kiss, something in my stupid mind told me that maybe the surprise was hot steamy sex, so I attempted to reach for her blouse, but she slapped my hand away.
“The last few months have been the best in my life, and I got you something really special”. I got such a rush of love from that statement. Then she gave me a box.
Inside the box, she had with her was a pair of Supra shoes. For those of you that remember those shoes, you know how important they were. Any person with a supra was promoted to the top of the social food chain. I had a dreadful fashion sense, but I knew what Supras were and I couldn’t wait to wear them to intimidate my peers.
My eyes were filled with tears. It was my turn to give her a kiss. This time, it was she that tried to reach for my crotch. I removed her hand gently.
This was turning to be a wonderful day and I was feeling even more confident about my gift. So much so, that I told her to close her eyes. She was so excited; she could hardly sit still. I held the bra by its straps, stood directly in front of her and seductively said, “happy valz babe!”
Her initial reaction was confusion. The kind of confusion people get when they wake up in a strange room after a night of partying. ” You bought me a bra? What are you trying to say? I wear mine too long? Why is it so big?”
The next few minutes I became aware of my girlfriend’s insecurities about underwear. Apparently, her ex-boyfriend had casually commented on how she wore one black bra a week too long. His insensitive comment was the beginning of their end. “Babe, do you wish I had bigger breasts? Is that why you bought such a big bra?” I was dumbfounded. How could something that was supposed to be good go so terribly wrong?
She was so upset, and I was clueless. My loveless neighbours were still outside, now less sad and laughing out loud. I felt like they were laughing at me. After much convincing and explaining, we decided to enjoy the night and forget the bra with pink ribbons. Later, as we got undressed for some valentine’s festivities, I volunteered to help her out her bra. She was a medium!!
Check out Lets Nduthis – How I Lost My Girlfriend To A Rastaman
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