Friday, May 28, 2010

Women Still Want YOUR Wallet, Not You!

I was of the opinion that today’s woman had outgrown the ‘detoothing’ scam that their older sisters used to do fifteen or so years ago. I really thought they had because evidence of ‘sisters doing it for themselves’ is all around us.

I thought people like Justice Sebutinde, Allen Kagina of the URA and finance minister Syda Bbumba had inspired today’s generation of Young Woman that they need not rely on men for airtime, saloon money, Smirnoff Black Ice money or even ice cream money. But it so seems that whatever inspiration Sebutinde, Kagina and Bbumba may have to pass onto Young Woman today, it is all wasted. Today’s Young Woman is no different from Older Sister for the agenda is still the same – Detooth!

Two weeks ago, we called in on a wine shop-come bar that is below a pub somewhere in the Buziga neighbourhood. Young Ladies who run the shop have the: ‘I am in vac and going to campus’ attitude ‘and I am only working in this shop to pass time.’ And while they had some beauty about them, they flossed their bodies especially their butts – wriggling them about like jelly that is about to be served to kindergarten kids.

Anyway, we had a couple of drinks in the shop and because we did not pamper to their egos or swoon after their jelly like butts, we got more than our fair share of beef from them. The following day as we had a bite to eat in the cafe above the wine shop-come bar, one of them walked in and just to pacify her, we offered her a drink on our bill.

‘Thank-you’ was not forthcoming. Rather, it was a sneer of, ‘I really don’t want a drink from you but I am so broke I will take it.’ And she didn’t take it straight away. Rather she disappeared back down to her shop and returned ten minutes later with Male Friend.

As we watched them at the counter, there was something going on that did not look right. Waiter reached out for a tray, and on it, went four Smirnoff Black Ice’s, three Tuskers, one Club, a Bell and a glass of Amarula. Okay so we thought, apart from one Black Ice, all the rest of the drinks are on her. And down the drinks went to the pub below. When Waiter returned, he presented the bill and it was not a bill that bore a solitary Smirnoff Black Ice. Rather it was for the entire order and the conversation that ensued went along these lines.

WAITER: “This is the bill.”

TB: “Bill for what?”

WAITER: “That lady told me you had bought her a drink?”

TB: “Yes, one drink and not the whole f*****g bar!”

WAITER: “But she told me to put them on the bill.”

I had to laugh to myself for a while. The rest of the table looked at me, their faces all with contortions that read: “Eh, at least it is not me who has been detoothed!”

At this point my laughter had turned into anger and in a rage, off I went downstairs to confront Young Lady. Getting there, it was a sight to behold. All I saw was her laughing with Young Boy Wearing Vest and Uncombed Hair as she sat on the laps of Jeans Hanging off His Butt.

Uncombed Hair even had the nerve to shout out: “What’s up bro?” while, Young Lady smirked and planted kisses all over Jeans Hanging off His Butt who was drinking my Club, my Bell, my Amarula and my Tusker!

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