Zookeepers Are Perverts – Allegedly.

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Razor’s was pumping. Which was not to say that it wasn’t usually. But tonight seemed way too intense to pass off as a regular Saturday. The air was electric, the bitches eclectic, and in all likelihood, you could swipe alcohol from a table and nobody would look at you twice.

Razor’s wasn’t the kind of club you could lose your friends in. It had only two levels. The top was fancier but smaller than the bottom and for all intents and purposes meant to serve the non-dancers. There was no room for that in between the many stuffed chairs and long tables. It had a balcony for fresh air and conversation and was less seedy without the strobe lights and the pickpockets. And yes, you guessed it, the bottom had enough of all these to loan. Housing the DJ booth, it was presently packed with dank, drunk, drenched, sweaty bodies gyrating against one another in and from various angles. The small tables were piled high with drink, empty bottles laying on their sides; the occupants who were too drunk to move slumped on them. The atmosphere was hot and the air thick. The music played in loud thumping punches; the bodies in sync. Diana was loving this!

Her breath was short, and her body was losing all sensation but her arms were up above her and her waist had a mind of its own and her feet shifted right and left, a willing slave. She wouldn’t stop if it killed her. Behind her, she felt hands go around her middle and she automatically turned around to brush him off, but the boyish smile on her best friend’s cousin, David, stopped her.

“Do you mind?” he asked, leaning to shout in her ear. She had been dancing alone and rather enjoyed it. It hadn’t taken her long to interpret the ‘accidental’ slide of male hands down to the flare of her hips. She’d been shooeing them off since.

“But you gotta watch your hands,” she told him.

“I’ll be good,” he smiled back.

As  Nelly Furtado and Timberland’s Promiscuous started up, Diana fair to threw her body at the beat. Her lips moved with the words; her hips took up a swing and her torso moved in the opposite direction. She felt her partner’s hands moved up to her shoulders and then down her sides, but was too gone to care. She was rolling her thighs her hands lost in her hair. What, she really liked the song. American Boy by Estelle and Mr West came on after and she forgot she had a partner. Her moves became more vigorous with the beat. She let out a shout in recognition of this momentous occasion, and her college roommate, Sheila, echoed it back and hopped on the table. She was blazed of course, but Diana smiled at her still. Their stuff sat strewn precariously in the seat next to her. She had to remember to put their purses somewhere safe next time. But for now, the music beckoned.


“She’s looking for her phone,” David said. It was nearly four in the morning, and they were at the parking space in front of the club. Sheila was still inside.

God damn it.

Diana dumped her pilot jacket and purse into Sue’s arms, a mutual friend of theirs. Her footsteps sounded off on the floor as she went through the hallway. Riri’s voice came out from the doorway on her right, leading back to the dance floor and she was headbanging before she knew it. I mean come on, what girl didn’t want to be made to feel like they were the only girl in the world. Her feet moved and she was back in, white girl dancing before she could track. What, this was a nice song too. The sun was breaking out by the time the two girls were coming back out.

“What. The actual fuck,” David said to the two hot messes. They had their hands around each other’s shoulders, drunk talking incoherently.

“It was the floor, David,” Sheila’s voice came out slurred and deep. “We were waiting for it to stop movin’, and then, somebody said the floor was lava, so we had to listen to them, and wait for the lava to stop moving too.”

They were standing outside the entrance, maybe six people total, looking at the pair of alcoholics that had clearly lost their minds. Diana didn’t care; she’d had the time of her life. The music, the dancing, the inebriation; it was a den of decadence in flagrante delicto.

She had danced and drunk and caterwauled herself to within an inch of her life. It was the most wonderful feeling ever! As she sat squashed on the window seat, staring out into the night, a loopy smile teased her cherry red lips. They’d almost drenched her in the beer keg that time she’d started running circles around the bottom level. Oh, the debauchery. She’d lost count of the number of couples making out in the not-so-dark corners of the joint; their bodies pressed together, legs hauled up against thighs, hands roaming all over. It was a testament to how shitfaced she was that the only thought that went through her brain was why their part of the floor wasn’t moving.  

The ride to whoever’s house they were all going to was made in the standard means of transportation for such a night in main town Nakuru, the majestic tuktuk. All six bodies, four girls and two boys, scrunched up in the three-seater like sardines. The roads outside of town were typically dirt, and bumpy for the most part. One could argue it was not overly comfortable, but to the bumbling, babbling band of drunk baboons, it was just an extra wee bit of fun. The vehicular contraption stopped in front of a blue gate that had a drain coming out from under it. There were a few minutes of utter silence from the occupants before the driver fisted the mesh wire window separating the front seat from the back.

“And don’t black out in the back of my car! Wake up. I have work to do.” He yelled through the square holes.

He popped open the door and they all milled out.

They stood dazedly, watching him drive away. Long after his break lights disappeared they were still staring.

David’s brother, James, nudged him. “Dude, we’re home,”


“Dude, we should get inside,”

David started fumbling in his coat pockets and retrieved a ring chain with an assortment of keys attached to a small model of a basketball. After a couple of tries, they were in. Now, David’s new Girlfriend, Anna, was the third girl in the group. She was in the same B.Comm class with Sheila, through whom she’d met the guy. David was two years her junior, and just recently acquainted with the den of iniquity that is college life. While the rest of us were busy trying to hydrate and assert control over our slowly flagging bodies, they were necking on one of two beds placed five feet apart in the small bedsitter. By the time Diana managed to get her shoes off, there was a quiet conversation about the matter of the sleeping arrangements. Granted, Diana thought, it was David and James’ house so they couldn’t very well give up their beds (well, at least not one of them). David and Anna were too busy eating each other’s faces to participate. So James pulled out one of the mattresses on his bed and made it up on the floor for Diana and Sue then handed them a blanket.

Diana lost her coat on the one chair in the whole setup and stretched herself. After a few delicious cracks loosened in her spine she went down on all fours on one end of the floor bed. She snagged a pillow from under James’ head just because, then laid herself down with a loud lusty sigh and switched the lights off.

She was dozing off, thinking about how weird it was that orange is the only colour that you can taste when she heard a squeak. She paused. When she didn’t hear it again she relaxed.

And shouldn’t tampons be called tamp-ins? Also, Animals are naked, aren’t zookeepers perverts-

There it was again!

What’s making that noise- ohmigod they were being broken into!

Her gaze locked at the door to watch if it opened. It didn’t. Her mind hazy, she wasn’t sure if this was all happening in her head. Trying to focus, she scrunched her face as the noise became loud.

Watching the door stay in place, her brows dropped and she looked around her in the dimness.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and her jaw came unhinged as clarity became hers.

These motherfuckers!!

She glared at the mound to her right squiggling and moving around on the bed. As if it would make them settle down. Loud breaths came from under their covers and she could see the clothes on the floor beside them.

I don’t believe this! She hissed under her breath.

Looking around once more, none of the other occupants had moved a muscle. Clearly unwilling to interfere. She tried to poke her bed mate aware but she either didn’t want to get involved or was far more drunk than Diana had first assumed.

Defeated, she laid back down, half her high gone, and became an unwilling eavesdropper on the depravity of second-year varsity students.

As the breathing became more insistent and heavy, needier and out of control, moans permeated the air she grimaced, turning away from them. She felt too hot and awfully uncomfortable but she pulled the blanket all the way over her head and prayed for those burglars. When the movements suddenly stopped she almost cried out her relief. But before she even got it out of her throat, a female shout rent the air and Diana’s body seized up.

What the fuck?

Then the squeaking of the bed resumed, but became more consistent and timed; joined with the dragging of the bed’s legs across the floor and the knocking of the headboard against the wall, punctuated by loud, female grunts. (It didn’t seem like she was having a good time). Coming together in a revealing cacophony of sound.  Their rhythm gained momentum and Diana wished the floor would open up beneath her. The bed legs and the floor were loudly protesting, and these two were probably denting the wall. Likely past covering themselves now. When there came a particularly loud screech on the floor and the wall at once; a single loud bark went up in the night. Then silence. Gaping, glaring, yawning, screaming silence. The kind Diana thought could feel weighing down her skin. She wanted to cry.

As the quiet ensued she lamented her choice of friends, the room they slept in, her bad luck, the mattress they slept on, the ground below them, and David’s horny hide. Damn it, she’d been in the most glorious mood!

2 thoughts on “Zookeepers Are Perverts – Allegedly.

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