End of the world threats at Mateos
Dec 02, 2005
IT was Viola (remember the Silverton chic?) who suggested we meet at Mateos. This place, atop Nandos on Kampala Road, but whose entrance is on Parliamentary Avenue, must be a favourite hangout for loaded revellers who can afford an upstairs beer at sh2,500 and a downstairs Nandos snack at sh7,000.
IT was Viola (remember the Silverton chic?) who suggested we meet at Mateos. This place, atop Nandos on Kampala Road, but whose entrance is on Parliamentary Avenue, must be a favourite hangout for loaded revellers who can afford an upstairs beer at sh2,500 and a downstairs Nandos snack at sh7,000.
Mateos has changed. It used to be a serene top layer hangout for the owners of this land but now, most patrons were young adults whom I swear had just dropped into good jobs and were dating campus girls. Music was arousing and the atmosphere, nightclub like.
I wanted to give this Viola baby a few lessons in etiquette and drinking manners. I was getting out my phone to call her when one smart bespectacled guy picked up my diary and newspapers to take a seat at a chair I was reserving for Viola.
Telling me he would leave as soon as Viola showed face, the young man, who introduced himself as a Jehovah Witness, started preaching to me about the end of the world which he called Armageddon or something as scaring as that. I made a mental note that when I eventually get rich, I will build my hotel in one of these swamps and call it Armageddon Mansions.
The young man said Armageddon was now within reach and could occur – his words – “before daybreak!â€
I hurriedly sent for another beer lest the end finds me thirsty. But the bloke thought I should instead stop having fun just because someone will be stupid enough to destroy the world.
Just then Viola came in and the Armageddon guy took on another pair, which must have wished he was never born. Preaching destruction should not give people the right to trespass against us.
Maybe the end is near. The signs the guy gave are clear; riots, hit squads, lawyers on strike, ghost bails, Maama Diana standing for parliament, Maama Akena standing for presidency and people becoming religious! How many times have I caught myself singing religious songs instead of thinking about, say, gorgeous women! So, are we going to miss the Christmas campaign booze?
Even Mrs Rover has changed! Last Saturday, we attended a party where she preferred not to dance. That was no problem had she not also preferred that her husband sits by her throughout the function, occasionally ducking into her armpit whenever a beautiful girl passed by. But she did not warn me about that change in our constitution.
So when she found me explaining to some girl what Armageddon means –– instead of being somewhere answering the call of nature, she removed her police uniform and put on the black mamba T shirt!
And she has been sulking ever since, perhaps remembering the good men she would have got but missed because of me. I need to get off booze to look like I am pleasing her – though I will be preparing for the imminent Armageddon.
For her and all who share her grievance, don’t worry, the word is ending soon. It might even end before you finish reading this sentence!
Mateos has changed. It used to be a serene top layer hangout for the owners of this land but now, most patrons were young adults whom I swear had just dropped into good jobs and were dating campus girls. Music was arousing and the atmosphere, nightclub like.
I wanted to give this Viola baby a few lessons in etiquette and drinking manners. I was getting out my phone to call her when one smart bespectacled guy picked up my diary and newspapers to take a seat at a chair I was reserving for Viola.
Telling me he would leave as soon as Viola showed face, the young man, who introduced himself as a Jehovah Witness, started preaching to me about the end of the world which he called Armageddon or something as scaring as that. I made a mental note that when I eventually get rich, I will build my hotel in one of these swamps and call it Armageddon Mansions.
The young man said Armageddon was now within reach and could occur – his words – “before daybreak!â€
I hurriedly sent for another beer lest the end finds me thirsty. But the bloke thought I should instead stop having fun just because someone will be stupid enough to destroy the world.
Just then Viola came in and the Armageddon guy took on another pair, which must have wished he was never born. Preaching destruction should not give people the right to trespass against us.
Maybe the end is near. The signs the guy gave are clear; riots, hit squads, lawyers on strike, ghost bails, Maama Diana standing for parliament, Maama Akena standing for presidency and people becoming religious! How many times have I caught myself singing religious songs instead of thinking about, say, gorgeous women! So, are we going to miss the Christmas campaign booze?
Even Mrs Rover has changed! Last Saturday, we attended a party where she preferred not to dance. That was no problem had she not also preferred that her husband sits by her throughout the function, occasionally ducking into her armpit whenever a beautiful girl passed by. But she did not warn me about that change in our constitution.
So when she found me explaining to some girl what Armageddon means –– instead of being somewhere answering the call of nature, she removed her police uniform and put on the black mamba T shirt!
And she has been sulking ever since, perhaps remembering the good men she would have got but missed because of me. I need to get off booze to look like I am pleasing her – though I will be preparing for the imminent Armageddon.
For her and all who share her grievance, don’t worry, the word is ending soon. It might even end before you finish reading this sentence!