Diaspoman: Meeting my match

Last week I told you how I got stuck at the Mulago roundabout as a result of the ever potent Kampala booze. The taxi driver that Pato and I had hired for the night spent 10 minutes driving round and round the roundabout…Suddenly he stepped on his accelerator and meandered all the way to a place known as Capital Pub. It was passed 4am. People were still enjoying their ice cold beers and roasted meat. Others were dancing and jumping. In the far corner, there was a group of mean looking fellows playing a game of snooker. Pato seemed to know his way around quite comfortably. Before I knew it, Pato had vanished away with his friends in the crowded place. So, I stayed with the driver doing justice to the bottles. He asked me whether I needed company. He winked and I immediately guessed what he was referring to. I tried to refuse but within a few minutes, the driver came along with two ladies whispering to them words to the effect of “This time ladies, I have brought you a real muzungu from Kigali. If you fail to de-tooth this one, then I will give up on you. He is loaded with real dollars!” Wow, so this lousy driver was busy setting me up for Kampala detoothers? As if I had not experienced enough before with the Diaspochick who travelled with me in the bus from Kigali? I vowed not to be tricked again. I stayed alert as the two chicks joined us at the bar. I pushed my mobile phone down inside my pants and stuffed my few remaining shilling notes into my socks. I was not going to be looted again. The ladies acted innocent indeed. In fact, instead of ordering expensive whiskey, they surprised me by choosing sodas. I was prepared to let them guzzle as much whisky as they liked at their own risk. I was ready to flee the place and leave them stranded! I was already planning to de-tooth them! But when they ordered for sodas, I felt guilty. So, I encouraged them to take some Tuskers on my account. They were eager to learn about beautiful Rwanda. So I poured my heart out, heaping praise upon praise on my beloved country. After some time I excused myself and headed for the toilets. I was surprised to see the two ladies follow me inside. They removed their wigs. They removed their stiletto shoes. They removed their fake bras. OH GOSH, they were not girls! They were real men and here they were ready to show me the dust. Within five minutes, these two guys had turned me upside and emptied all my contents including the phone from my boxers and the cash from my socks. They slapped me around before dashing out leaving behind their fake female attire. I was cooked. I cursed as I prepared to search for Pato who was to take me straight to the bus park and give me money so I could board the next bus to Kigali. Contact: diaspoman@yahoo.com