Trivial and Daft Thoughts, Outrageous Escapades and Sometimes Serious Content As Appears In My Sunday Vision Column.
Friday, February 10, 2017
Don't Ask. Just Take
Bluntly speaking, they don’t ask.
They take and with no shame.
Avid fountain pen connoisseurs like,
NSSF MD, Richard Byarugaba (Below) and ODD Concepts MD, Oscar Mulira, will tell you
that a fountain pen is not to be shared. The nib of the pen is fragile and it moulds
itself into the users writing style. If somebody else uses it, it ruins the
style in that when you get it back, it won’t feel or write in the same way.
A Mont Blanc, is top-of-the range
when it comes to fountain pens, and it was nestled in my shirt pocket with a
House of Plastic biro in my trousers. When it was time to sign, They Don’t Ask
felt about himself for a pen and realising he didn’t have one, he looked up at
me and straight away his squinty eyes zeroed in on the Mont Blanc. I tried to
reach for the House of Plastic biro, but by the time I whipped it out, They
Don’t Ask had already delved into my pocket, harnessed the Mont Blanc and set
about to scribble on the dotted line.
They Don’t Ask had a nasty and savage
street prostitute writing style - almost like he worked for UNRA and was using
a pneumatic drill to drill some culverts on the Entebbe Express highway. He
pressed so hard into the paper that the nib split.
When he was done, he looked at
the pen, put the cover back on and wait for it, wait for it – he didn’t give it
back. Rather, he played about with it, finished off his beer then stood up.
“TB, I best be heading off” he said. With that, he put to sleep the Mont Blanc
in his shirt pocket and walked off.
He didn’t ask. He just took.
Another They Don’t Ask came to
visit one Sunday. In the living room, he marvelled at my CD collection that he
wasted no time in pulling up a chair and started going through them. He’d pick
up a CD, read through the booklet and put it back. But some, he didn’t put
back. He put them on the coffee table. I wasn’t perturbed, because I assumed he
was making a selection to listen to. Except as you may have already guessed, he
didn’t listen to them.
When it was time to leave, I
popped into the kitchen while he went to his ride. By the time I got to him, he
was about to pull away. I just about made it to his side of the ride to bid him
farewell and enough time to catch a glimpse of a stack of CDs on the passenger
seat. I didn’t think much about it until I went back to the living room and
realised the assembled stack of CDs on the coffee table was gone.
He didn’t ask. He just took.
Doing some shopping in Gaba
market, I chanced upon Chap selling baseball caps. I am a cap person so
obviously, it necessitated a stop to browse through his stock. Hidden at the
very back was a cap in near mint condition that bore the Apple Computer logo.
5k and two minutes later, it was in a kaveera
heading home with me.
The Apple cap made its debut at
the Kampala Marathon and while I was quaffing TML in MTN hospitality tent, I
took it off and laid it on the table. When They Don’t Ask sat down next to me,
he wasted no time in spitting out - “Wabula
TB, you got some good caps.” With his ‘theft’ statement out of the way, he
picked it up and plonked it on his head.
When it was time to go, I pointed
at the cap and his response? “But TB…” and then he sprinted off into the crowd.
He didn’t ask. He just took. Pictures: NSSF, Internet