Friday, April 22, 2016
Who Did Susu On The Floor?
There is something about having a house party. The following day, that something, is usually ‘regret’.
I had been invited to a dinner party at Muzungu Doc’s house in Muyenga. It wasn’t a big blaring party, but more of a small gathering – 12 of us plus Muzungu Doc and Wifey. Walking past the dinner table that had been laid out on the patio, it was obvious that it was a ‘by-invite-only-party’ and not a party where you casually tell a friend to ku’leebeta (fall in). We were all there save for one elusive guest who, Muzungu Doc got tired of waiting for, so we went ahead with dinner without him.
Wifey had laid on a very good spread – everything from a cut of roast beef to roast spuds. The conversation too was intelligent – global world politics to film and the arts. As we tucked in, Muzungu Doc’s phone rings.
Elusive Guest was at the gate.
When Elusive Guest joined us, Wifey let out a whispered but audible remark of: “Oh, we might have a bit of a seating problem.” But why would there be a seating problem seeing there was already a place laid out for him?
It turns out that Elusive Guest had decided to do some inviting of his own and had come with Female Muleebesi who, was sheepishly cowering in the living room. Wifey though didn’t vex but took it in her stride and set up a place for her. And that’s when the problems started. Female Muleebesi literally had to be coaxed to the table and when after half an hour she did, it was plainly obvious why.
She had worn a blouse with no bra. Whenever she moved a muscle, it opened up and her boobs fell out. But that the least of her worries. For the lack of a better and polite way of putting it, her standing in society was such that merely sitting at the table and she was out of her depth. Holding the cutlery was an issue. Being part of the conversation was an issue. Eating the sumptuous meal was an issue.
Everything was an issue.
I don’t know who squirmed more – Elusive Guest, Female Mulebeesi, Muzungu Doc, Wifey or we the guests but the moment dinner was over, it was such a relief.
Patrick also threw a dinner party for ten at his Munyonyo house. Patrick is huge and the way his voice bellows out, it’s enough to intimidate if you don’t know him. Everything was going well. The meat he grilled was excellent, there was plenty to drink and the conversation wasn’t tired but hilarious.
Then he went to the toilet. When he returned, he wasn’t his jovial self and called us to heel. “Okay who did it” – his voice roaring with anger. “One of you pissed on my floor and I don’t find it amusing!”
I hadn’t been to the toilet so It wasn’t me but yet, I felt guilty - not because I have a habit of peeing on the floor, but because of the death look he flashed.
Twenty minutes later I got up to go to the toilet, but paused for thought. I was so nervous of making an error with my pee projectile and peeing on the floor that I opted to go and pee in the garden.
In a secluded dark spot, I unzipped, took him out and started doing my thing when the voice bellowed out. “Eh, eh, who is that pissing on my flowers?” I was in such a fright that….and I think I had better stop it at that. But if you are a man, I am sure you can guess what happened next with the pee projectile.
But I need not have been in fright because he too was in his flowers having a pee. And the voice bellowed yet again: “TB, I wish people could be like you. If you know you pee on the floor, go outside.”
WTF, I don’t pee on the floor! Seriously I don’t and I could imagine in horror him telling Guests after I had left that I was the culprit.
It all ended well two days later. He had found Culprit and to his shock, it was not Male Guest, but Female Guest. Eek!
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