Saturday, August 27, 2016

Vorsprung Durch Technik

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.          

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