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For the love of stupidity…

Body language intrigues me. It inhibits some of the most effective ways of communication. The signals given off using different parts of the body spark feelings of anxiety or desire towards the other person. You can’t ignore it. It’s subtle and bites deep. If your crush licks her lips or crosses her legs in a way that speaks to you, my brother you will go crazy. You will sweat, but to your crush, her message was delivered. It’s up to you to act on your feelings or render yourself the world’s most useless man. Chicks like to process messages through their entire body. She will move her toes to say something. Problem comes if her feet aren’t exactly the best feet out there. You will miss the message.

But have you ever had someone say so much with their body without doing too much? Like they just stare at you without blinking, looking into your soul and wondering what sort of animal is seated before them. She looks at you like you are the descendant of all foolishness. She continuously stares right into your DNA asking herself why she even wasted time coming to meet you. Your crime is stupidity. The stupidity of not burging to her whims of buying her those expensive tequila shots. She will resent you as she blows the trumpet of doom to her friends on WhatsApp about her disastrous date. The date of cheap food, cheap air, a cheap guy with cheap taste.

That day, I was stupid as hell. Too stupid to ignore the fine clothes she came clad in. I was lost in my search of substance. I wanted to hear her dreams and her plans, to gel in on her brilliance. I was busy crossing my arms waiting to hear what came out of her mouth while she was busy looking at the heavier side of the menu. I was stupid enough to also know that she jumped a few trenches to get to her taxi stage, and that she had also boarded two taxis to get to town. That’s before jumping onto a boda to some little known restaurant for our date, yet she despised me for not being able to afford those wines whose names she couldn’t even pronounce.

The restaurant she deemed cheap, or not to her standards was what I could afford. I could have been stupid to tell her of my future plans that I also wanted to be like some tycoons with bizimbe downtown, to run Kampala and get talked about in the same breath with our politicians. She stared at a day-dreamer, not at an ambitious person. I might have been stupid to spend some ka money I had made off some deal on her while I saved some for tomorrow. I think I was so stupid that I didn’t borrow a car to woo her yet I have friends I could borrow a car from.
Now she hasn’t called back.God, why did you make me so stupid? I guess, no one should interfere with your plans. But in all honesty, K’la girls should ‘count us brains’ (mutubalemu ku magezi) and stop the games.

 

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