There are those contradictory sayings about first impressions and judging people. For instance, there is the saying first impressions are lasting impressions and don’t judge a book by its cover. Perhaps it’s the realization that there can’t be a universal way to judge a person that we have all these sayings. The environment and particular circumstances are key in determining whether to judge a person by the cover or not. How will a prostitute on the streets for example know whether a man is loaded or not?
At the heart of it, it doesn’t matter. As long as a man can pay my fee it matters not to me whether he is spending on me what he makes in an hour or a whole month. Sometimes it’s obvious a man is spending the last of his shilling on me, but well that’s his choice. As some other people would say generosity is not a function of how much one has, but the enormity of the heart; or stupidity.
Wordily logic, however, has it that the more one has; the more one is likely to give. From an economic viewpoint, I tend to think everyone spends a similar proportion of their income on leisure; something like 20%. Certainly, a fifth of a hundred thousand is more than a fifth of ten thousand. So a girl will wish to go with a man with more money; hoping the man will pay him extra. Of course, it doesn’t always happen that way.
In the streets, the way to judge how loaded a man is by what he drives. I can’t tell apart many models of cars but I can know an expensive car. Well, some girls are experts. A seemingly expensive car will drive past and a girl will say ” That’s Japan, not showroom.” Japan is cheaper. How they tell is beyond reason. But the car a man drives is not an absolute gauge of his well-being. The car may not be his. This is somehow easy to know by the way the car is driven and the confidence of the driver.
High-worth individuals, driving the fuel guzzlers, can make decisions fast. They won’t dilly dally picking a girl. It’s as if their minds are already set. Such a man will stop a car, and as we crowd it, he moves his eyes from end to end and then settles on a girl. A decisiveness that perhaps explains their wealth. Or perhaps they don’t want to be seen on the streets talking to prostitutes.
Those in the average car will take hours to pick up the girl. They have some misplaced excitement or perhaps are confused. They will stop a car, let the girls gather around, and like a king, Swazi king, take their time to make their choice. Some will be lost in laughter as the girls sell themselves. They are problematic men.
Some months ago a rickety old car, which no one could tell what make it was, drove slowly along the street. When it stopped the girls thought it was due to a mechanical problem and no one seemed bothered, until the man removed his hand and waved, beckoning a girl. I went. The man just opened the door. I got in and we drove to a hotel along Ngong Road. To be on the safe side he was the kind of man I had to insist he pays me upfront. He gave me a $50 note for a one-hour session and paid for my taxi back to town. I have neither seen the rickety car again nor its owner; a man not to be judged by the cover.
