Many were called, her view was CHOSEN

Many were called, her view was CHOSEN (CHOp n ScrEw me uNceremoniously)
I chased that girl my friends, dayum, I chased her... And for all that effort what? Rejection, injury, in-your-face spite. Do I regret it? No. Would I go through the same again? Never. Was I mad? Irate. Looking back? I laugh... September-ish 1998.
Once upon a time...
There's this girl, we'll call her Pummela, I had a severe crush on. She lived in the leafy suburbs and had many suitors, Milo included. I, however, felt I had the upper hand given that she had persuaded me to leave my former for her. Big big big mistake. I left my well paying job for a job-advert in the Nairobi star (so to speak). I should have sealed the deal first, signed the contract, undergone induction training. But who am I? I left my former based only on her declaration that the only thing that stood between us was my existing relationship. Hmmmmph...
Porter's Five Forces, Number 3: Industry Rivalry
The competition was stiff. Working against me was the fact that my former was friends with her (through me) and tearfully pleaded with her not to break up a happy home. By the time I realised I had left my Mbachao for Mswagger upitao twas too gaddem late... We (the main competition and I) were assigned time-slots to see her. I, Yu network, had her every other Friday and every other Saturday alternatively. He, Safcom, rotated these prime days with me but almost seemed to enjoy free reign over the other weekdays and had cleverly denied weekday-portability requests. I even lodged a formal complaint with CCK (Cede the Chick to me Kindly) but to no avail. Yaani the guy played the handicap card manze, the cheeky b*stard!! Like that parking near the supermarket entrance that you rush towards just to find the sign that its for the physically challenged. The nyang'au had volunteered to be ferrying a special child home each weekday evening. I listened to her description of his empathetic, oh-so-sweet nature and tried to smile through my gritted teeth. "How sweet" I said, jaw clenched, lips barely moving, veins lining my temple. She felt the need to accompany him each evening. I knew I was done given that the only trump card for the situation would have been a diseased, semi-blind, half-legged guka that I had to visit each evening so as to clean his sores and read stories too. Fat chance. I retreated knowing that the competition was building an unassailable lead over me.
Sundays, lip service
The one day we shared in common was Sunday. Given I used to play football each Sunday evening, Safcom would visit her in the afternoon and I would pass by later in the evening. On one of those Sundays, I happened to have gotten delayed in getting the car and was thus in a real rush to shower and get to Pummela. I decided to go the combat route with nothing underneath my jacket given any second spent dressing was lost time with Pummela. There I was: Jacket, Slacks and Sandals, nothing else. We'd sit in her garden, staring at the stars and talking endlessly. But this night was to be different. Halfway through our conversation, the sound of a car at the gate proved an irritating interruption. I knew that sound, I knew it was Safcom. "Chief, have you no morals??? Your time was up!!!!" were my angry thoughts... Pummela excused herself and went to open the gate. I turned to face the other way, disgusted! Next thing I knew there was an ear-piercing, heart wrenching scream from Pummela and the night of the long swords began...