After the gym, let’s drink beer and eat like pigs!

One of the very many great things about me is that I am not here to impress anyone, neither am I good at lying to myself. I have no kind words for people who claim to take the gym seriously, then right after, sit down on meat heaped on plates and demolish it all like cows and goats are going extinct!

One of the very many great things about me is that I am not here to impress anyone, neither am I good at lying to myself. I have no kind words for people who claim to take the gym seriously, then right after, sit down on meat heaped on plates and demolish it all like cows and goats are going extinct!

At a popular nyama choma joint one day, in walked four men with stomachs the size of a baby whale. They looked like they had each swallowed a whole jackfruit. Because my mother taught me better than to stare, I decided to eavesdrop on their conversation (something she asked me not to do either).

To be fair, the fact that they were seated so close to me and insisted on talking to each other like they were partially deaf, eavesdropping came naturally. They started talking about the gym and how great it felt to burn a few calories –honestly, if that is the way they look after burning calories, I don’t wish to know what they looked like before. However, that is not the issue.

 

These good men proceeded to order for nyama. Now you might think, what is wrong for that? But after burning calories, how do you order for five goat ribs and four portions of posho? When they finally brought the food, I swear, I hoped others would join them. Alas! It was just them. It was a movie I had to watch.

 

I turned my chair to get a good look at them without making it look like I was staring. The manner in which they ate alone suggested they didn’t have time to notice who was looking at them. Gosh! I have never seen anything so disturbing in all my life.

I can assure you that those ribs were no more in a matter of seconds. I blinked once and everything was gone! The next thing I saw was them picking their teeth and spitting out the bits in every direction. The one with the biggest stomach leaned back and if I didn’t know for a fact that men don’t get pregnant, I would have sworn he was due! They then ordered for bottle after bottle of Mutzig and guzzled away all night.

The killer part came. They continued their jazz of going to the gym and I desperately wanted to tell them to stop wasting their money. For one, if every time they go to the gym they hit the bar and eat and drink like the Mayans confirmed the apocalypse, they are clearly wasting money.

 

Two, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but those stomachs aren’t going anywhere, not even the gym can fix that. Something of that nature needs to be chopped off with an ax or chainsaw! Damn!

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