Suddenly I had a strong edge to get up and go home, but yet something kept me seated.
For a moment, there was an odd silence...
“Hey, did I tell you how pretty you look today?” said Cota P obviously trying very hard to break the silence.
I giggled a bit and took a sip from my half empty drink. I looked at him and said, “Well thank you. You don’t look too bad ya’self.” But thinking to myself ‘For-an-ever-money-talkin Cota.’
Two cheeky-lookin’ young men entered and walked straight our way. I looked at them and then at Cota P.
He got up and greeted the men.
“Au vera grote,” said one of them while the other was looking at me as if trying to tell me something.
I felt my heart beat.
The boy who introduced himself as Sunny said, “Bok wati grass eeti.”
I tried hard not to look frightened and said, “Hi,” but did not tell him my name.
So I sat there looking at the three men talking. Their body language said so much about them - nodding heads, poking ears, and yet again I felt like going but my legs were frozen.
Sunny and his friend left and Cota P took a seat again next to me.
There, he was tellin me of those being his laaities, “Eish those boys look up to me man. They are surprised to see me with a lady. I’m always too busy with work or I’m out of the country.” It took me a lot of courage to ask this but I had to do it, I looked at him and asked, “So what is it that you do”?
He looked at me and gave me a fake smile . . . and there it was just as I expected - a phone call.
“Hella Mashaba (pause) ndili koMonaco man (long pause) 66326 ya sharp,” again I pretended to be busy texting on my phone.
He looked at me and said, “Og mxxm, when I look at your phone I miss mine. I had a BlackBerry touch man, man, man I lost it on the plane. This one (showing me his 1100) I got from my friend to use till Monday when I will get my other BlackBerry.”
I just sat there lookin at this young gentleman telling me about what he has, what he had and what he will have. He got up, took me by my arm and led me out.
I noticed how everybody was looking at us and wondered why? Was it my dress or people were simply just looking? Parked outside was a Black Gti. Cota P opened the door and asked me to get in.
I said, “No, it’s OK. I’ll take a cab.”
He looked at me and said, “Lol, no it’s OK just get in.”
So I got in and there was Mashaba.
“Mashaba Shaba wat se j my lani aye ne dis so my bra dis so,” Cota P greeted Mashaba.
My heart skipped a beat when Cota P gave another number 35356 and the car rolled off.
I knew, at that moment, this was some sort of language. Mashaba kept staring at me through the mirror. I kept asking myself where I was going.
When the car stopped, Mashaba got out opened the door, Cota P and I got out while Mashaba got back in the car and drove off. I followed Cota P into Hilton Hotel.
All the while, I was asking myself what he was doing there and who was going to pay.
When we inside, a waitress greeted Cota P, “Awe Cota P?”
I was surprised and speechless.
“What? Can you please stop looking so scared? The people would think I have kidnapped you. Try smiling or something,” Cota P told me.
I gave him another fake smile and checked my handbag to see if my BOB card was still in just in case.
Cota P got another call. It was Mashaba. He got up and said: “Order whatever you want,” and walked toward the exit.
I sat there wondering what would happen next. . .