The “-logue” that comes at the beginning
Time check: 6:00pm
Location: My Office… not in an “I have my own office, with windows and a desk and what not” sort of way.
I’m engaged in some very serious issues. Nuh, kidding, I’m just chatting with the blogger known from time to time as Rev. I can’t remember much of the discussion, but I think the word “boobs” came up once or twice. Was it about porn? No? Oh that’s right, it was the word booze. So it must have been about drinking… No? Ah, yes, it’s coming back to me now. It was about boots. Said something about needing some… then we steer chat towards the topic of the BHH. I complain that 6:30pm is like so far away. I cuss at my computer for lying to me. It’s saying its 6:15pm, but I know better. It’s (as you may have deduced from the first line) 6pm.
Rev tells me the announcement shoulda read 6pm, but somehow the thirty appeared seemingly of its own uh, own-ness!
It suddenly occurs to both parties in this chat session, that I happen to be in the same environs as the Blogger we call Baz and the one we call Heaven. As Rev. suggests that I should hook up with them and go for the BHH with â€˜em, my phone rings as it is wont to when someone dials my number.
My ringtone is the song “STRONGER” by Kanye West. For some reason it seems a little slower than the song he sampled; Daft Punk’s, “Harder Better Faster Stronger cooler dumber greater later faker weaker kneecap…”
It’s Baz on the other side. Speak of the devil methinks. SPOOKY! I tell him I am heading to the BHH, but I think there’s more to this convo as well. I think the word “Kiss” appears. No? Keys, then. Yeah, we talk about keys. No, that can’t be right. Why would we discuss keys? Peace? The war in the north? Or some chic by that name… Oh that’s right, it’s Piece!
I am supposed to submit my piece for the paper. The one we call the leading daily. I look at the blinky light thingy that usually winks at me from the modem to suggest that pieces of internet are tickling its insides as they come to my computer. Its not winking. I realise that the winkage can only mean that the internets have decided to wait before venturing forth into the modem. I am without a web. Curses! I tell Baz that I will send it first thing in the morning.
I notice that there’s about 5 minutes left to the BHH. Awesome. What is not awesome is the fact that I have both a jumper and a shirt with long sleeves. I certainly can’t wear both. And the sun has forgotten this is the part where it is supposed to make like electricity and go. I dilly dally for a bit and wait. I publish the piece below this one in a bid to pass time and make the sun go away. I turn off my computer and leave the jumper at work and take my long-sleeved-army green-with a skull thing to the BHH.
Its debut if you will.
The words that appear in between “-logues”
I use a boda-boda to get to Mateos, known in some circles more appropriately as “that place where bloggers meet.” I attempt to keep my face non-smiling. I don’t want to give vendors the impression that we are buddies and they should offer me groundnuts. It’s my sod-off expression. Patented. Often imitated but never duplicated. Then I see two bloggers of the female persuasion.
Must. Not. Smile.
They see me as I try to stare down a pretty young thing that almost stepped on me. They smile.
Must. Fight. Smile.
One of them stands up. She seems taller than when last I saw her.
I yank the ear phones out of my, well, ears. That’s where they reside, isn’t it?
Smile Bad! Scowl Good!
She hugs me and my scowl leaves me. But not before saying, “Adios amigo, you’re weak. You give in way too easy!”
I hug the other and I am genuinely happy to see them after so long. Some times it (by the way, its no longer 6pm and I’m sure it is rather evident I am no longer in my office.) takes work and depression to make you realize what happiness once was. *sigh*
We engage in some small talk, about grubs. A comedy about little worms in the hospit… sorry, Scrubs; a sitcom based in or on or about a hospital.
The blogger known to some as Rev appears. He is happy. He sits. Then he stands up because that’s what people do when they want to carry tables and chairs. You generally can’t do that successfully while sitting.
Yeah, we’re cooking!! We are bloggers four, can’t wait for some more-oooh-ooooh.
The one they call Dante turns up. With a laptop. That is so fly it should be up in the sky with birds. What? Its nice. But seriously dude, you’z a geek!
There’s a moment of denial wherein we refuse to believe that we are the only bloggers present. It gets so bad, there are sightings of Tumwijuke. In like 3 places at the same time. One version is wearing jeans that the blogger called Dee says can’t be rocked by someone over 23… I think she’s picked up on my lustful glare (not being cast upon her, upon the jean wearing non-blogger) then Rev sees version 2.0 across the road. The Beta-looking version is inside Mateos and we debate amongst ourselves who will accost her and ask her whether she is the Ugandan insomniac. Dee says she can’t do it. I’m a coward when it comes to these things, so I conveniently avoid it. Rev says he will go. Are not communists equal? Do they not fight lions in the dark? Do they not grow dreadlocks? Okay then.
He comes back and says she is neither Ugandan in nature nor an insomniac. I can attest to this, she looked bored and on the brink of sleep. I think she was Congolese in her nature.
The awesome laptop I discussed is whipped out and we proceed to drool over it.
Two bloggers appear. Shock! Awe! Its… Its….
I’d called Mr. Back2Basics and I think he was engaged in some activity that people in these here parts call “work”.
We share Kissyfur’s cake. Because that’s how sweet natured she is. She came and shared cake with a bunch of strangers. Who does that? Who eats and drinks with as-if-strangers? Oh…
We get into some argument involving pizza…
Baz and Heaven and…
THE ONE WHOSE NAME CHANGED EVERY FIVE MINUTES!
The “-logue” that comes at the end:
We talk and make noise as we are wont to during these things. Had a good time and then Heaven had to leave (Can Heaven Wait- Luther Vandross) (I don’t know why I put that there…) and then the great rock debate ensued… then Baz left…sorry dude, got no song title for you.
Rev says he saw the gay blogger, but he didn’t go over and invite him to join us. Some Communist you are, buddy.
The rock debate concluded with the consensus being that we should go and totally ROCK…
Over to you DEE