True life experience: The date that went wrong

Aug 27, 2010

I like partying. I can wake up in the middle of the night to go dancing, even when I am sick. This time though, it was a date. I had known James for six months but he had never asked me out.

By Lola Naggayi

I like partying. I can wake up in the middle of the night to go dancing, even when I am sick. This time though, it was a date. I had known James for six months but he had never asked me out.

One Friday, he was supposed to spend the night in Buloba on Mityana Road. He asked me to meet him at Desire Bar in Buloba and also told me to wear my best outfit because he was taking me on a date.

I had never been to Buloba, but at least I knew where to get the taxis from. I told everyone at home how I had a date, but did not tell them where I was going. In the morning, I went to the salon to do my hair. At exactly 6:00pm, I was on my way to Buloba in a short, hot, pink dress.

I kept reminding the conductor to stop at Desire Bar, since I had never been there. By the time I arrived, it was drizzling. That did not bother me; all I wanted was to meet my date.

But on reaching the bar, I was shocked. It looked like a school main hall. I swallowed my pride and called my date to ask where he was. Before even I switched off my phone, an unidentified man directed me to where he was. I found him seated with his friends making a lot of noise. To my surprise, James, was not dressed like he was ready to receive me. He was wearing black jeans, a red T-shirt and African sandals. His friends left and we were left alone in the room. He hugged me and offered me a seat.

The restaurant was disorganised. Plates and cups were everywhere, and the waitresses were a turn-off. James asked me to order for a drink. I would have wanted tea because of the weather but the cups looked filthy, so I decided to wait as I made up my mind.

After a few minutes, his cousin joined us and my date was happy to see her. “She is going to foot the bills,” he said, introducing her as Joyce.

They talked about family issues and the recent bombs in Kampala. I was left out of the conversation and felt out of place because I thought I was too well dressed to be at Desire. I could see people peeping at me.

Joyce then asked whether I was ready to bear children for her cousin. I got annoyed because this was supposed to be a date with James. Everyone who walked into the bar was either in dirty jeans or shorts.

I started playing with my phone because I was bored, and eventually asked for Smirnoff Red. There were men playing pool and hurling obscenities at each other, which seemed fine with everybody in the bar.

At around 9:00pm, Joyce left, saying she was going to meet her child. However, she did not clear the bill. When a waitress presented the bill to James, he rudely asked why she was giving him the bill yet she knew that Joyce was responsible for it. But the waitress retorted: “Nze temunaba kubigamba ko. (You did not inform me about it) sparking off an argument. James stood up to fight the woman. “I am not going to pay” he said, “I will only pay for her Smirnoff.”

Everyone came to our table to find out what had gone wrong. However, those who came in the name of helping were all ogling at me. I felt like a fool. After some time, the manager came to sort out the matter. It was after he got his phone and threatened to call the Police that James was intimidated and pulled out sh20,000. He then started hurling abuses at the waitresses, who instead of attacking James, started insulting me and calling me all sorts of names.

It was time for me to head back home. It was cold and no one offered me a sweater. I stormed out of the bar and called out to him that I had to leave. “Babe, I didn’t intend to behave like that. Forgive me, ” he said and requested me to sleep over at his home. But, from what I had seen, I could not risk my life and before I left, I assured James that we could not have a relationship.

It was now late so the conductor decided to pack us in the taxi like sacks. No one complained because it seemed everyone knew how hard it was to get a taxi from Buloba to Kampala at that time. I went home pissed-off and did not tell anyone what had happened.

Since then, we have not communicated with each other.

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