Hunter becomes the hunted. Yeah, actually this title would perfectly fit my situation. Well, I don’t remember what I was telling last week because I vaguely remember anything at all. I can only remember talking about something to do with something related to balancing the universe by way of forcing those who have more than enough to surrender some for those that don’t have anything. My grumble was that more and more people are ‘privatizing’ birds and leaving the forest empty; with nothing to hunt. But that was before I was possessed (pun intended!). Well, I will tell you about this bewitchingly, charmingly gorgeous bird that ‘blind folded’ the Bird Hunter and ‘abducted’ and transported him across Rivers and Lakes. She is what they call ‘the bomb’ for those guys who, for failure to learn any language, have decided to ‘invent’ their own language called slang. Before I was possessed, I was busy cuddling a plastic ‘quarter’ at ‘somewhere’ (convert this into French ‘currency’ and you will know the place in Nyarutarama) with the intention of getting some bird hunting inspiration of the night when she struck. My jaw suddenly dropped and the ka ‘quarter’ that I was holding slipped through my fingers. At this moment had my mind been working well, I would have started humming KGB’s ‘Arasharamye.’ She cat-walked (this isn’t called walking, I swear) to where I had planted myself at my favourite spot at the counter to try and think and kunonosora my piracy plot. Before I could say ‘hi’ she cut her speed and lifted herself onto the counter stool next to mine. There is a saying that ‘if you want a boy or a man to covet something, make it hard to obtain.’ But this bird wasn’t making ‘itself’ hard to obtain at all! Here I was in despair trying to chair a board meeting (I believe you know that the bird hunting board is composed of only three people; Me, Mr. Myself and Mr. I) on how to launch the piracy project only to suddenly realize that there was no reason for this after all. I was in business. Like a real pro, I gave myself a few minutes before I unleashed my bird hunting arsenal. Before she could say ‘orange!’ (Mind the pronunciation!) I had already said “give her a glass of wine or whatever other fair drink she would like to take, on me!” She rewarded my generosity with that killer smile which only a bird hunter of my calibre can survive. I waited until the waiter served her with a glass of wine before I moved in with full force. Before she knew it, I had known her name, her mother, her father and her…….wait a minute! Did I actually get to know her age? I very much doubt. Well, after all, isn’t age nothing but a number? Before I also knew it, I was ‘deeply in love.’ One thing led to another and we found ourselves somewhere ‘quiet and private’ listening to soft music from the likes of Lionel Ritchie, Maxi Priest, Luther Vandross…to name but a few. During the one to one talk I found myself opening up to this bird, something that really surprised me because it’s normally among my bird hunting rules not to get too intimate and tell my secrets. I found myself telling the bird that before meeting her I was planning to become a pirate. She almost choked on her wine. I did not expect this kind of reaction because I believed that no one would take this seriously. That is when I understood that she had been watching too much TV. She was like “You wanna become what? Tell me it’s not true because I don’t wanna be disappointed,” the look in her eyes told me she was one of those well brought up upscale suburb kids who were harshly lectured by their mothers about lying, and were told “never lie, even when it’s meant to be a joke”. Well, that is when I came to my senses and started thinking of a way out of the situation. This is what I did; I burst out laughing, almost rolling on the ground. I looked at her and burst out laughing again, making sure I put her into confusion. This is a tactic that I have come to muster during bird hunting. It really works well with birds. When they are suddenly mad at you, do something that will either confuse them or arouse sympathy. As expected my plan worked really well. After my theatrical laughter I looked at her and just shook my head massaging my ribs, feigning pain from the ‘laughter.’ When she started asking about what I was laughing about, I was like, “do I really look like a pirate to you?” she was like, “but you started it!” I took the chance to make her feel guilty so that I could gain an upper hand, this tactic is known to clear up things and do away with whatever lingering stumbling block, bringing you and the bird closer. That is why I feigned disappointment which she immediately sensed and started asking for pardon. “I am so sorry if I offended you but I thought you were serious about becoming a pirate. You see, I don’t even know you well and you can excuse me for not being able to know what you are capable of, and what you are not capable of doing so I am very much capable of misjudging you.” Well, at this juncture I realised that I had a big problem at hand. Right before me was not your average bird. From her analysis of the situation, I could bet my last breath that this was a far above average bird and therefore not gullible at all. I fully understood that if I was to succeed I also had to reach for the remote and adjust my IQ. As a good bird hunter you have to learn when to run and when to walk. This is called adjusting to situations. I excused myself to go to the washroom and when I came back, I was very ready to turn things around. I informed her that I am a humorous person by nature and if she had a problem with that, then it was a disappointment because anyone with her beauty is supposed to sit back and enjoy good jokes and laugh all the way to good health so that her beauty and youth should forever remain. This did the trick. She asked me whether this is really true. Well, my intention was to steer away from some serious conversation because I knew that with a bird of her beauty loaded with brains, I was bound to lose out. When you are hunting, never try to go into serious issues like politics, economy or ICT. (Bird Hunting) Science has proven that this always leads to failure. No wonder most professors live a solitary life (bird-free life) because when they meet a bird, they start telling them about swine flu and how it spreads, its complex chemical composition…etc. Well, we had a very nice discussion about beauty and how to preserve it. I of course told her about my aunt who is eighty but who looks thirty because of knowing how to preserve her beauty so well. Before we knew it, our lessons had taken us into late hours of the night and we decided that this should better be continued somewhere else… Ends
