Sunday August 24, 2008: It is 11:27 am. I am sitting uptsairs the KFC establishment down town Kingstown at the corner of Grenville and Melville streets. I have just had breakfast. I had a zinger sanwich, two packs of fries and two glasses of pepsi. Perhaps, I will come back later for dinner. Lunch in the meantime (a late lunch) will be another soda and some sweet biscuits.
KFC Down town Kingstown, SVG
It is now 11:32 am. I am penning these thoughts in little red notebook. Upstairs KFC is empty except for me sitting at the window overlooking Grenville Street. At this time on a Sunday morning, business is slow. The KFC staff are engaged in idle chatter. They appear to be in good spirits judging from the frequent outbursts of laughter emanating from downstairs. I continue to write. Perhaps I will post this on my blog later this afternoon.
Not too long ago, a typical Sunday such as this was spent at home with the family. I would be more than likely in the kitchen preparing an elaborate Sunday meal. Yes! That’s correct, I would be in the kitchen taking charge or simply helping out the wife. The children would have been occupied in various ways. The eldest (a girl) would be locked away in her room working on a school assignment or talking with her friends on the phone. The two boys would be watching TV or playing video games. Every now and then, the wife or I would be shouting: “Keep the noise down! Did you guys do your homework? Come here… Do this … Do that”. It was chaotic at times but it was beautiful.
Today, I am trying very hard to live as a bachelor or more like a quasi-bachelor. And, as you can tell by now, it is not easy!
I have not washed a piece of my clothes in nearly six months! Back at home there was a washing machine and the wife and kids took turns doing the laundry. The general understanding was that I hated washing but I loved cooking and cleaning. At Daddy’s house, there is no washing machine. And because I hate washing, I have been wearing shirts up to five times each in rotation before the stink forces me to put them aside. I have been buying cheap T-shirts in abundance whenever I need a clean shirt. I have recently bought complete suits to attend some special engagements. Meawhile the dirty clothes continue to pile up. Frankly, I prefer to burn them before I wash them. I just hate that fucking chore.
I love cooking; I am a good cook. But I have not cooked in months. Cooking is of no joy when you have to eat alone. I enjoy cooking for people especially my family. Cooking was always a pleasure especially on Sundays. Unfortunately, in my new state of quasi-bachelorhood I now resort to fast food. KFC happens to be my favourite.
It is now 11:58 am. I thihk about how to spend the rest of the day. When I leave this place, I plan to go to the office (my new office) and prepare for tomorrow. I may later on take my youngest son, the 13 year old, to watch the movie Hell Boy . Then we may hang out at Heritage Square for a while; eat Richie’s hot wings and take in some music. Then my son goes home to his Mommy (the wife) and I go back to Daddy’s house.
Heritage Square Kingstown SVG
Life as a quasi-bachelor (neither married nor single) is terrible. I have already shared with you my lament on the scarcity of pussy. But, as you can tell there is much more to it than that.
The Great Creator did not put us on this earth to live alone. That is the essence of the fable of Adam and Eve. Yes! Eve fucked up. So did Adam. But, there is no evidence that they separated.
Since I have been forced to part company with my wife, several colleagues, friends, and family members think that it is a time for me to celebrate. “Move on!”, they say. “There are several women out there looking for a man like you…You are free…” They all give the impression that bachelorhood is a preferred state.
I must confess that there were times when I wish that I were a bachelor again. Now that I am a quasi-bachelor, I am convinced that bachelorhood is not what it appears to be even from the vantage point of a rocky marriage- at least not for me. Bachelorhood is over-rated.
It is now 12:17 pm. Two young men, bachelors, enter the dining area. They get too loud for my liking. There is now a young lady sitting a few tables away from me. She is probably in her mid 30s. She looks great in a thightly fitting pair of jeans accentuating the curves. She wears a sleeveless horizontally striped pink and white blouse just as tight as the jeans. “Gorgeous”, I say to my self. “Potential pussy”, I think. I look in her direction hoping to make eye contact. As far as she is concerned, I am invisible.
My heart aches again for another Sunday with my family, the wife and all. Whoever claims that bachelorhood after 40 is a great place to be, perpetrates a huge and terrible lie.
It is 15:47 pm. I am about to share these thoughts with you.
Numalali 