I got to know Horseman through
Paulo though, Horseman isn’t his real name and I don't know how he got the name nor do I really want to dwell on it because I think it might have something to do with size of a certain part of his anatomy. I think they used to work to
together at utl. He’s a nice chap – a spitting image of the artiste Navio (Below) but without
his finesse and one who has a way with words – in that you just don’t know what
he is going to spew out and when he does, it’s a case for being on bunkenke – especially when the ladies are
around for he is direct, to the point and often leaves them traumatised.
Horseman used to cruise town in a
Toyota which he continued driving well past its scrap-by-date. Then it died.
For a while he was without a ride till he got himself and the funds organised
to buy a new one. He wanted a BMW – a ride that Paulo, Willo and I tried to
talk him out of – telling him to buy a Toyota because of the availability of
spares and the resale value – words which, fell on deaf ears.
Weeks later and he pulls up in a
blue BMW 318 (Below) that needed some light work done here and there. If I recall, we went
on a binge and drank to the BMW as well as wishing him good luck. For a while,
lady luck was on his side. The BMW behaved but every time I saw him, I couldn’t
help but think of when it would start throwing tantrums.
Then he had the audacity, without
telling us - his ‘tights’, he went on a hot Friday date with Ka-Campuser like the ones below to
some fancy dinner of sorts. Date done with, they walked back to the ride - BMW
keys clinking away in his hands ready to fire her up, give her a few revs to
put Japanese Car Driver in his place and be on his way. His brain was also
working overtime and was way ahead of him – thinking of the sawa ya maaluv session that awaited him
and trying to get his love vibe in order – words of ‘darling, I love you’ and ‘come
sit on papa Horseman’s lap.’
Except, it didn’t happen that
way. There was no getting his love vibe in order. When the key hit the ignition
and he turned it over, nothing happened. The BMW didn’t fire up and he didn’t
get to give it a few revs to put Japanese Car Driver in in place. There was
nothing but silence.
Sweat cascaded down his forehead and
dampened his shirt while Ka-Campuser’s smirk indicated that she was no longer
going to be had for ‘desert’ and perhaps wishing she had gone out with Plan B
who drove a reliable Toyota. But lady luck came through for him. The BMW did fire
up and they were on their way except, as they neared her hostel, he hit a speed
bump that the entire front bumper deposited itself on the road in front of him.
Her smirk came back, the desert of her in lingerie, soft lighting, Luther
Vandross serenading in the background and some red wine went of the window. Of
course she abandoned him.
But he didn’t learn. Weeks later
at a hangout in Kabalagala, again BMW refused to fire up – this time something
to do with a massive oil leak. Days later, something from under the engine fell
off. It got so bad that to be certain the car would start, he used to park it
on a hill so he could roll and jump start it.
On another outing, as he got into
Wandegeya (Below from Mulago) with Date and he rounded the corner to drive up Makerere Hill road,
this time the bumper didn’t fall off but, the car just switched itself off –
engine, electronics and all.
Months later when he did his
sums, he worked out that the repair bill since he got the ride was almost on
par with what he had paid for it. To save face, beer and Chogm pork money, he deftly
off loaded it - except he didn’t tell us.
To-date, at the mere mention of a
BMW, he regurgitates all the ‘F’ words he’s used since he started using the ‘F’
word, bangs tables and rues not having had Ka-Campuser and Date for desert because
BMW didn’t live up to its slogan of, Vorsprung Durch Technik – Advancement
Through Technology.
No comments:
Post a Comment