My friend and I were out on a little shopping expedition on Saturday. I normally love shops with male attendants since you can be assured of getting the fairest of prices expecially when you give them a cheeky smile that would last them through the next 2 Christmases. But today was different. My friend wanted to restock her collection of inner wear, thongs to be specific, and the person manning the shop was this Somali guy who was more or less the age of my grandfather. On top of that, he had a hearing problem. Who lets a partially deaf grandfather man a lingerie shop?
Anyway, things took a much more awkward turn when after shouting the word “thong” several times, guy didn’t know what the hell that was. I summoned my friend to the corner and adviced her that maybe we should look for an alternative shop but she wasn’t close to giving up just yet. We tried everything, writing it on a piece of paper, drawing it even but guy is looking at us like “whaaaat?”. The only swahili word I know for thong is too obscene, shouting it to a grandpa was a no-no. I feared the word might make him permanently deaf.
So as a last resort, my friend practically demonstrates what a thong is. She aims her behind at the guy and without even a hint of embarrassment she shouts “the one that divides the mountains!” while trawling her two index fingers on her butt to indicate how the thong normally fits. Guy was looking on, eyes large like saucers.
I subconsciously inspect my friend’s derriere and think maybe she was exaggerating a bit on calling her assets mountains, they were more like road bumps…buuut that’s not the point. Thankfully grandpa gets it and he produces this array of very beautiful thongs. What’s more? Thanks to my friend’s butt theatrics, we even got a 25% discount! I wish my friend had an inch or two to her butt, maybe we would have walked away with free panties .