Laying the best plan on a date
It all begins with an innocent phone call from him inquiring about how you are
By Sandra Kabongoyi
It all begins with an innocent phone call from him inquiring about how you are, how you spent the day — the usual formalities. He then asks if you would mind a drink (on a Saturday night? Of course not!)
You dress up for the night and step out ready to carry out your revenge for the week’s stress on that thing called alcohol.
Beers flow and so do the compliments; about your hair, nails, smile and dress.
This goes on as you sip from your first to fifth bottle. From the sixth bottle and above, the kaboozi changes and so do the drinks. Instead of more beers, you get shots of taquilla and the gentleman starts aiming at bigger things; what lies beneath, like the oil in Lake Albert. His compliments are now directed at your boobs.
Time check; 1:00am. He talks about relocation. You hit the road and head for the happening (crowded) bar nearby. More beers and his words slur and he starts feeling cold. He puts his arm around your shoulders for body warmth. A couple of more drinks and his words become more slurly, he is getting colder and cannot wait to enter his bed. He makes a very polite and thoughtful suggestion to you that you spend a night at his place.
You refuse and request him to drop you off at a convenient place on his way home since it is the same route and he accepts.
Time check; 4:00am. You dose off for a few minutes and wake up almost home.
You start getting ready to say your good-byes only to realise that he has not stopped the car and is instead driving fast and straight ahead.
One mile past, he turns down the car volume, makes his apologies, blames the selective amnesia on being drunk and then makes the very kind offer again (sleeping at his place). You look at him suspiciously and he promises that nothing against your wish will happen to you, yet he already has his hand on your out-of-bounds property.
Swallowing hard and pissed off, you nod in acceptance and from the corner of your eye, you catch the sly smile on his face. Thousands of thoughts are going through your head when you see the SHELL Select Shop that opens 24 hours, seven days a week from a distance.
You suggest that you pass by and pick some stuff for breakfast and he accepts wholeheartedly convinced that the deal is settled. You make your way inside, his arm around your shoulders, smile on his face telling it all and head for the shelves. You then make a pick at the extra large Always sanitary pads.
He drops his arm from your shoulders, put on a serious face and makes up his mind to drop you off.
It all begins with an innocent phone call from him inquiring about how you are, how you spent the day — the usual formalities. He then asks if you would mind a drink (on a Saturday night? Of course not!)
You dress up for the night and step out ready to carry out your revenge for the week’s stress on that thing called alcohol.
Beers flow and so do the compliments; about your hair, nails, smile and dress.
This goes on as you sip from your first to fifth bottle. From the sixth bottle and above, the kaboozi changes and so do the drinks. Instead of more beers, you get shots of taquilla and the gentleman starts aiming at bigger things; what lies beneath, like the oil in Lake Albert. His compliments are now directed at your boobs.
Time check; 1:00am. He talks about relocation. You hit the road and head for the happening (crowded) bar nearby. More beers and his words slur and he starts feeling cold. He puts his arm around your shoulders for body warmth. A couple of more drinks and his words become more slurly, he is getting colder and cannot wait to enter his bed. He makes a very polite and thoughtful suggestion to you that you spend a night at his place.
You refuse and request him to drop you off at a convenient place on his way home since it is the same route and he accepts.
Time check; 4:00am. You dose off for a few minutes and wake up almost home.
You start getting ready to say your good-byes only to realise that he has not stopped the car and is instead driving fast and straight ahead.
One mile past, he turns down the car volume, makes his apologies, blames the selective amnesia on being drunk and then makes the very kind offer again (sleeping at his place). You look at him suspiciously and he promises that nothing against your wish will happen to you, yet he already has his hand on your out-of-bounds property.
Swallowing hard and pissed off, you nod in acceptance and from the corner of your eye, you catch the sly smile on his face. Thousands of thoughts are going through your head when you see the SHELL Select Shop that opens 24 hours, seven days a week from a distance.
You suggest that you pass by and pick some stuff for breakfast and he accepts wholeheartedly convinced that the deal is settled. You make your way inside, his arm around your shoulders, smile on his face telling it all and head for the shelves. You then make a pick at the extra large Always sanitary pads.
He drops his arm from your shoulders, put on a serious face and makes up his mind to drop you off.