I drove in through the gates of the Fairview Hotel after the security check. It always amazed me that the guards had this device that seemed to have a mirror at the end of a long metal rod, which they poked underneath the car. I chuckled to myself wondering if any of them had ever been a mechanic. Do they know what a normal car looked like underneath, let alone with explosives hidden under there? If I were a terrorist I would have no trouble coating the explosives with some mud to look like the rest of that area. I imagined they kept eyes more on my thighs in my short dress of African print, whose arms flared out like a priest's robe, than on the mirror they should have been concentrating on.
I found a parking space near the corner, from where I walked into the Makutan Restaurant. Fairview boasted of being the only "country hotel in town" with its tree-shaded canopies scattered around a pool, through which a fountain sent streams of water. It was a very relaxing atmosphere. Some tables in the far reaches of the garden seemed to harbour men in smart suits negotiating big business deals. I chose a table not too far from the bar counter as I had no secret deals to cut. The waiter appeared as if by magic and took my order. While waiting I noticed a tall dark man coming into Makutan looking for a place. He had on light brown trousers, a sports shirt under a dark jacket with a zip down the front. But his feet were shod in a pair of light shoes somewhat between moccasins and walking shoes. They seemed to be made of a black fabric. He shot eyes under my table, spotting the side of my thigh, but then he turned away from me and went down the pathway as if looking for a better place. My heart fell, as I was hoping he would sit where my thigh-show would distract him. Today was Friday and I hoped to have some evening fun. Then he disappeared down the corridor that led to the washrooms, still carrying his leather satchel.
Some moments later my heart soared when he came out, turned my way and walked back to the table near me, offset and at right angles to mine. From that vantage point he would be able to look in my direction from time to time, and I would be able to expose some more of me. I had not had quality loving for quite a while and I would be fortunate to score this guy with his tempting dark looks.
He sat down, and without waiting for the waiter to arrive dived into his satchel and withdrew a large iPad which he propped up. I didn't catch where he pulled Airpods from, which he popped into his ears, at which point the waiter had arrived. He swiftly ordered his food and we settled each to our own stuff. When I crossed my legs, knowing that that would expose the underside of my thigh, I saw his head swivel through an almost imperceptible angle and eyes roll towards me before switching back quickly. If I had not been aware of it, I am sure I would have missed that fleeting moment.
As we ate I would turn my body more towards his table so as to let him see some little bit of an inner thigh then turn away again. Each time his eyes left the screen for an almost indiscernible instant to take in the sight I offered. The naughty man turned his iPad in a way that suggested he was taking photos of my thighs under the table. I clapped them together and parted them in quick succession as if overpowered by the flavours of my food and drink. I did not lift my eyes from my phone's screen letting him believe that he was incredibly surreptitious in his activities. In any other setting I would have grounds for accusing him of sexual harassment, but here I was having fun with him. I was not very sure he could concentrate properly on whatever he was doing. If it was work, he would surely be behind-hand if I kept this up!
Surprise, surprise! He called a waiter over, delved into his satchel and withdrew something with yellow or perhaps a light green colour. Handing it to her, he said something I could not catch from my distance, but she started in my direction holding what I discerned to be a business card. My heart was beating in my throat by the time she reached my table. Handing it to me, she said, "That gentleman gives you his compliments, and wants your permission to buy you another drink."
"My, this is moving faster than I would have thought!" I said to myself. "Yes please!" I said to the waiter, while lifting the card towards my lips and looking at my dark stranger. He smiled back, then turned back to his iPad as if nothing had taken place. Too late I realised that my thighs had been playing "open and shut" all by themselves under the table. I arrested them, trying to look as calm as the storm that Jesus rebuked so long ago.
A moment later the dark mystery man lifted his eyes with deliberation towards me and smiled. He made a sign seemingly to tell me to wait just a bit. Now my heart thumped in my chest as if ready to jump out! He continued on his iPad for what seemed to be an eternity but which may only have been a few minutes. Pushing his chair back he stood, took a few long strides towards me. He stretched his hand and said in a kind of musical voice, "You are awesome, lady! My name is..." Here he seemed to hesitate but I remembered his name on the card.
"....Alex." I finished for him.
"Thank you!" We laughed together companionably as if we had known each other since teenage.
"Wanna sit down?" I offered. "I am Rita" He shot a glance at his expensive equipment back at his table then signed to a waiter to bring them over.
Alex took hold of the flared out sleeve of my dress and said, "A priest, eh?"
I smiled. "A travel consultant with Bonfire Adventures."
"Same job. Different destinations." I could not believe the irreverence, but was still unable to hold in the laughter. "I love traveling and have done numerous trips overland!"
"What do you mean overland?" I had a suspicion that he meant travel by road.
He launched into a retelling of numerous trips he had done through East Africa by bus. Mombasa. Kampala, Uganda. Loitokitok. Lake Victoria.
I could not let that one pass. "Lake? How did that go?"
"It was a mixed travel. I left Nairobi by bus to Kampala but this time I had no interest in that city. I just needed to get to a port on the lake with the possibility of boating. I eventually found one at Bukoba from where we crossed overnight to Mwanza on the southern tip of that lake."
