All is not well for Beer Peddler because Beer Boss is messing up his turf. Back in the day, things were straight forward that when Beer Peddler sold us alcohol, his mandate was to the point and explicit: “Sell as much beer and spirits as possible”.
If we got drunk, it was not his problem. If we drove home while inebriated, again, not his issue. All he cared about was sitting in his office on Monday morning looking smug while telling Beer Boss: “I have hit my targets, now bring on the bonus.”
But then out of the blue, Beer Boss got a guilt trip, got all responsible and introduced the ‘responsible drinking’ campaign.
The responsible drinking campaign, quite rightfully saw the introduction of police breathalyzer roadblocks that today, at least those who have been caught and have done a stint in the cooler are now mindful enough not to drive home whilst drunk.
However, Beer Boss in Europe has pushed the responsible drinking campaign up a notch and there is a good chance that the notch will one day make its way down to Uganda and put us at logger heads with Desh Kananura, Charlie Lubega and Elvis Sekyanzi.
Get this. Before you walk into a club in Europe, Beer Boss has deployed a breathalyzer - to make sure we are not drunk because “new age clubber is sober”.
Should I pause while you kick away that flea ridden stray cat, take stock and compose yourself with another beer like I did when I heard about it before I continue?
You now composed? Beer Boss wants us to be sober when we walk into Panamera, Ange, Silk and other clubs and if need be, have us breathalysed to be certain.
Let me put it into context. A week ago, Billy Ocean was in town. As he did his thing and got us jammin’ and stompin’, we were drinking and the more we drank, the more we stomped that when the curtain came down, we were on an such an Oceanoholic high, there was no way it was going to be an abrupt, ‘The End’ like it happens in the movies.
The night had to continue into a nightclub and with more drinks.
When we got to Silk, Ange or Panamera, Beer Boss need not have consulted Toxicologist at Mulago Hospital to tell him that in our inebriated state, our livers and kidneys were working overtime while the nostalgic oldies frenzy of the Ocean concert, not remembering walking through the metal detectors or Bouncer patting us down is how we are supposed to walk into a club if it’s going to end up being a night for World Cup.
So imagine getting to the door of Silk or Ange or Panamera in such a high to find a breathalyzer and worse, being turned away because we are over the limit. Will that go down? No, it so won’t!
But back in London, it does go down because Mark Fuller, who owns Embassy Club in Mayfair and whose clients are breathalysed before they are allowed in says “the number of fights in the club have reduced because people are sober”.
What Beer Boss and Fuller don’t comprehend is that when Ugandans go clubbing, we go there to dance, to make very merry and if we are lucky enough, get a random snogo or pick up ‘a stray’ and – not to melee as happens in Europe. Clubbing is our final frontier where the plot is lost, where we do something silly that’s worthy of a Kampala Sun mention before we go home.
Assuming Charlie, Elvis and Desh were not following, we do need breathalyzers to grab those driving whilst drunk but not to stop us from getting into your clubs. Who knows, but our WAGs might pick up on the idea and start introducing them at home and you don't want us sleeping in our cars overnight do you Elvis, Desh and Charlie?
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