When friday reaches, all tweeps update TGIF (Thank God It’s Friday).
The sun then sets, traffic jam cloggs the roads, the mood rises to an unbelievable buzz, the FOMO rises to crescendo of grubby drinking and mindless debouchery.
Men mindless of their dressing, go out to get laid
(it’s the gospel truth).
Ladies, always well dressed go out to have a good time and this includes being bought free drinks and they get away with it (
When these two parties clash, as they will, there are winners, losers and those in between who think it’s wiser to be independent.
In Kampala, on a friday night, at the end of the month, middle aged men are paid and young girls are ready to go out.
Some of them really nail it with the dressing though some pass off scarves around their hips for skirts.
Some of them catch the guy’s eye at first sight but those who don’t have to wait till 3:00am when the eyes have been blurred by some alcohol.
If the dress doesn’t sell it, then the dress will.
If all that fails then gyrating what her momma gave her will do.
When all this has been put to effective play, definately a guy will be on his knees.
Then the two meet, dubbing reaches it’s epitome, exchange of phone numbers occurs and drinks flow like the river nile.
The shocker comes in the morning.
The lady with her hangover tells her friends “But Sam thinks am that cheap, he just bought a few (like 8) smirnoffs and I have to open my legs for him, but guys, no wonder they are all the same”.
On the other side of the planet, Sam is also telling his friends what she did “I bought Sharon and her friends drinks but she still refused to give me shit, talk of making losses”.
The friends tell him how she has done that to a couple of guys and he should calm down.
The evening reaches and the boys go to watch football and everything is long forgotten.
Women and men at a certain point play this game with serious tenacity and brilliance and not even Da Vinci found the solution to this imbalance.