WOW

Simply because there are no other ways to describe last Saturday. I hadn’t expected anything good to come from the day mostly because I woke up on someone’s carpet without my keys. Plus, it was technically supposed to be the last day of campus and I had to get the fuck out of hostel. I could have stuck around longer but the landlord was literally anticipating the moment when he kicked me out. My ego would never let that son-of-a-cunt savor that moment.

In short, I had to find my keys like pronto and map out my exodus.

I drunk a lot on Friday night with my boys and they said I had apparently been thoughtful enough to trade my ATM card, ID and room keys for a rolex at 2am. Why I did that, I’ll never know. I managed to find the rolex stall and the dude spinning that dough recognized me almost immediately. He claimed I’m the craziest guy in K-town. I wondered why I never got the memo. I mean if I’m the craziest guy in town, someone should have at least been thoughtful enough to bring it to my attention, right? Like, do you know how hurt President Yoweri would be if everyone knew he was the most corrupt scumbag in E.A. but no one told him?

 By the way someone should tell that bald headed nut sack that he’s the most corrupt fellow in E.A.

I’m not the type for small talk so I told rolex-dude to get my shit so I can figure out a quick exit route. Of course, he needed some dime mbu for his effort. How much? 5bob. For the record, I never have cash before 11am so I made this clear to the chap. He said he couldn’t be sure if I would come back because there are mob bafeere in kibuga. I looked at what I was wearing, gauging what had to be sacrificed. It most definitely couldn’t be my pants. It couldn’t be my Writing Our World bracelet because I was attending our Christmas Party later on. I don’t have very nice abs so my shirt unquestionably had to stay on. Er, you’re welcome ladies. For a very long time, I earnestly considered giving the bloke my drawers but with this whole Mubiru sodomy thing going on, I figured if I opened my fly I’d probably have more than just my keys to worry about.

I sacrificed my open shoes.

Which meant I’d have to walk from Nankulabye to Kikoni barefooted. Not a very nice way to start a Saturday but there was nothing much I’d do about it. After walking 3 meters, I realized – hey, the paparazzi phones must be ringing off the hook by now. Yeah you don’t have to hate, I’m kinda famous. I got a boda-b with the sole intention of pulling a “Babaluku” as soon as I reached hostel. As in, split without paying.

Which I did

The hardest bit about packing and leaving was that I had to do it discretely. Almost everyone in the neighborhood had lent me money at some point so I had to convince them that I wasn’t about to pull er, a Babaluku. They weren’t swayed to believe this theory so I left my stuff at the gate and paid a boda-b to pick ‘em up and meet me up front.

I’ve never been to the famous Plot 63, Kira road Kamwokya. For those of you that don’t know this is where it all goes down. It’s where the Writing Our World offices are located. It is also where the party was at. A babe had to pick me up from my bro’s place so I could like tag with her. She’s really hot so my bro was like really jealous. Which sort of raised my spirits for the day since he thinks nothing good could possibly ever happen to the dirt bag that I am.

I have social anxiety issues. My voice was also very hoarse from the week-long drinking and party crashing so I was a tart nervous but I needn’t have been. I knew almost everyone before I met them from all the social media interactions. Everyone was friendly and I’d never really interacted with fellow writers before. I felt welcome and at home. Even though the sort of “parties” I attend are normally typified with clouds of smoke, gambling and breaking glass, I somehow found myself enjoying the WOW party more! Which as a contrast had nice snacks, sodas, sweet smiles and A LOT OF CAKE. I especially loved the game we played. It is a sort of “Improv” where one person makes a sentence and the next person uses the last word of the previous sentence to make another sentence. It is not as easy as it sounds. For the first time I realized that the phrase, “Evil is the root cause of all money” is not grammatically correct.

That honestly made much more sense in my head but now that I write it out…it daint.

I don’t know if this is true but apparently there was supposed to be an after party at Club Amnesia. I couldn’t attend because someone had made sure I never had any cash and I’m nervous whenever I have no money. To top that, I’ve been inebriating a lot so I don’t care for liquor.

By the way I’m typing this while lying on my tummy. My nephew is on my back and he has been thoughtful enough to pee on me. Gotta go people.