Welcome To Hotel Columbus
I ARRIVED in Rome in a very grandiose style. I was picked up at the airport in new model Mercedes Benz, and taken straight to a five star Hotel called Hotel Columbus.
I ARRIVED in Rome in a very grandiose style. I was picked up at the airport in new model Mercedes Benz, and taken straight to a five star Hotel called Hotel Columbus. I feel obliged to tell the reader that that is where my confusion began.
Having entered my room, with the help of a waiter of some sort, I failed to find my way out of the hotel. All the corridors looked the same, and all inscriptions were in Latin, or Italian. My bathroom, equipped with first class technology, functioned with the use of buttons only. I fumbled, through trial and error to take a shower, flash the toilet, vacuum the bathroom, etc. It took me three days to master all this.
My first meal had its own drama. The waitress served me with a full plate of Spaghetti and minced meat. Hungry as I was, I gladly munched everything away in a matter of minutes.
To my surprise, as I prepared to depart, she came to inform me that there was another dish, of stake, coming. I told her that I was quite satisfied, she insisted that I had to eat the second course. I was thus forced to eat the stake, which seemed half cooked.
Day two brought its own horrors. A man entered my room to replenish my mini bar. I had a casual conversation with him about Africa and Rome. Then, from the blue, he hit me with a question:
“Can you take off your pants, so that I can have a look at you while you are nude?â€
I stared at this six-foot tall Italian man in shock and disbelief. “ I can not do that.†I replied humbly and tried to divert the conversation onto something less tense. This homosexual could not give up. He offered to perform oral sex on me free of charge, and I refused, telling him of how much I loved women.
Finally, I asked him if he had any women friends. He replied that he did. I asked him to bring me as many of his female friends as he could. At that point, the message sunk in. Disappointed, he departed. I quickly locked my room.
At night, my telly had two channels that showed nude lesbians. I could not help it but leave these channels on for as long as I could. Such opportunities are not available in Uganda.
Then, I met a colleague at the conference called Eitan Sela. He was an Israeli psychiatrist with a deadly sense of humour. He told me stories about a drug addict who was once detained in a jail with a leper. The drug addict, quite suspicious of the leper, kept a strict eye on him. One day, the leper’s nose fell off, and the leper threw it out of the window.
The drug addict looked at him with marked curiosity. The same thing happened to the lepers ears, mouth, fingers, hands, all of which he threw them out of the window. Then, the drug addict said with much relief, “ Hey! Sinyori, now I catch you... you plan to escape piece by piece! You clever man...â€
Ends
Having entered my room, with the help of a waiter of some sort, I failed to find my way out of the hotel. All the corridors looked the same, and all inscriptions were in Latin, or Italian. My bathroom, equipped with first class technology, functioned with the use of buttons only. I fumbled, through trial and error to take a shower, flash the toilet, vacuum the bathroom, etc. It took me three days to master all this.
My first meal had its own drama. The waitress served me with a full plate of Spaghetti and minced meat. Hungry as I was, I gladly munched everything away in a matter of minutes.
To my surprise, as I prepared to depart, she came to inform me that there was another dish, of stake, coming. I told her that I was quite satisfied, she insisted that I had to eat the second course. I was thus forced to eat the stake, which seemed half cooked.
Day two brought its own horrors. A man entered my room to replenish my mini bar. I had a casual conversation with him about Africa and Rome. Then, from the blue, he hit me with a question:
“Can you take off your pants, so that I can have a look at you while you are nude?â€
I stared at this six-foot tall Italian man in shock and disbelief. “ I can not do that.†I replied humbly and tried to divert the conversation onto something less tense. This homosexual could not give up. He offered to perform oral sex on me free of charge, and I refused, telling him of how much I loved women.
Finally, I asked him if he had any women friends. He replied that he did. I asked him to bring me as many of his female friends as he could. At that point, the message sunk in. Disappointed, he departed. I quickly locked my room.
At night, my telly had two channels that showed nude lesbians. I could not help it but leave these channels on for as long as I could. Such opportunities are not available in Uganda.
Then, I met a colleague at the conference called Eitan Sela. He was an Israeli psychiatrist with a deadly sense of humour. He told me stories about a drug addict who was once detained in a jail with a leper. The drug addict, quite suspicious of the leper, kept a strict eye on him. One day, the leper’s nose fell off, and the leper threw it out of the window.
The drug addict looked at him with marked curiosity. The same thing happened to the lepers ears, mouth, fingers, hands, all of which he threw them out of the window. Then, the drug addict said with much relief, “ Hey! Sinyori, now I catch you... you plan to escape piece by piece! You clever man...â€
Ends