He is not your typical Valentine’s date. He has an appointment with the dentist. Same reason I am in the hospital on a Valentine’s Day afternoon. I am not in pain, seems like he is easy as well. Both our appointment time has delayed, he was to go in at noon, then I go at half past one, but he only starts being handled on my scheduled appointment time, for the next one hour.
Mr T is a tall, dark guy. (I am not sure about him being handsome). He is in a suit on a Monday afternoon. A Black Suit. He looks 28 or 30. He is seated at the very far edge of the waiting bay seats with a book stretched far away from his face. The hospital corridors, at this side of the dentist room is not as busy. Only 6 people waiting.
The nurse then calls,
“T!”
He raises his head and walks briskly into the dentist’s room. What kind of a name is T? Neither Tony nor Tom, just T.
When I see T again, its 2:30 pm. He is done with the dentist. I go in psychologically prepared for an hour-long assessment, which even goes on for 2 minutes long.
T has not left the hospital yet. For me, I am yet to start processing payments from the insurance. 40 minutes straight into this.
“35,000Ksh, where is your card? “The cashier is conversing with T, who is right under her nose, but she squeaks as if to address the entire waiting bay”
“What card?” T asks.
We exchange looks, before one lady shouts as if to address T from the back.
“Insurance or NHIF, whichever!”
T shakes his head and asks for the hospital account number.
He is been too engrossed in his book to notice anyone seated next to him. He also does not seem to be in a hurry. I have seen him since 1; 25pm.Its 4;30Pm, but he doesn’t seem to be leaving any time soon.
The cashier calls me, and points to the hospital’s account number. She says,
“15,000Ksh”
For a moment, I feel like telling her that I am not T.I hand her my card and wait for her to bill.
I sit there momentarily, because today, people seem not to leave the hospital immediately. Plus, its Valentine’s Day, and I don’t have a date, its 5Pm already.
T picks a call.
“I am just across the court”.
Sounds like an answer to where are you? He slides the phone back into his pocket and continues reading. When I receive a call from Rennie, one of my friends who is a nurse at the hospital, I take an elevator to ground floor from first floor.
Hanging out with Rennie doesn’t last long. I get a call from the dental cashier that my payment from the insurance is not reflecting in the hospital system. It’s her fault. Seems like her Valentines has stood her up, or that she can’t just figure how on earth she is working today. She is too bitter.
“Seeing you again?”
T has this deep voice. The typical voice that SDA bass members own. You know for bass members, they already know that they can just do without that mic, but they have always maximized it, that we almost fail to hear tenor.
I nod, because what is he still doing at the hospital at 7Pm? He is weird. Doesn’t he have a valentine’s date, or ok, coffee or dinner?
“Are you not leaving, or you work here?”
I shouldn’t have asked about working, because he has been warming the seat since 1;25Pm.
“I am actually on my way out, Shall we?”
Shall we what?
Get you an insurance card, or make you understand that people don’t sit at the waiting bays the entire Valentine’s Day, and complete a 467 paged novel?I feel like pasting
the questions on his forehead.I tell him that I am good, and that I also know my way out.“Explains why you spent your whole Valentine’s Day in the hospital alone in black jeans.” He retorts.I get attracted to his insolent boldness. I turn and smile at him. He lowers his mask and winks.“Shall we?”Shall we what?” I ask gently.“Walk down to Newlife SDA church. Its just across the road. I have choir practice”Wow, SDA men, practicing hymns at 8PM on a Valentine’s night.“Do I get soya?”“Wait, you take soya?”He is almost holding himself back from saying Happy Monday, because it’s not Sabbath. He drives to Prestige Mall, and gets me a bunch of 50 petals of rose flowers and a new book that I have not read before, which perfectly suits my wavering personality now. The book is called;Why you act the way you act by Tim Lahaye.“Are you Tim?” I finally ask“No, I am Theodore”Now what name is that?Can never be me!
euniceakinyi 