Saturday, November 05, 2005

Of Men & Mindsets

In this day and age there is a man who lives and works in our capital city, seat of all civilization and all things modern in this country, who thinks it is simply utterly unforgivably wrong for women to wear trousers. That guys’ job is driving a taxi and I had the unenviable position of seating next to him, and betwixt him and another guy just like him on the way home from work today.

It started out innocuously enough when we all got into this taxi and set out just to try and get to Ntinda without running over any cats or dogs or sheep – funny isn’t it that sheep hardly ever end up as roadkill even though they are without a doubt something really stupid – everything was going swimmingly until we run out of fuel somewhere after the Transami Inland Port. Ok. Nothing spectacular there; happens all the time in Kampala.

Mr taxi driver even said as much and for our benefit proceeded to educate us that seeing as his vehicle is diesel powered we could drive all the way to Ntinda if we wanted to! Kale, driver alagidde. But for just, he would pull into the Shell station just over the hill and fill up some. Which he did. Right after we pull up and the conductor gets out to do his thing this PYT steps out of the Select and minces towards our taxi. Brother man next to me goes like, “jjangu tugende designer!”, which translates as step this way you luscious young thing dressed in those white tighter than lycra pants and lets rotate some tires.

She duly stepped our way but somehow someone seemed to have conveniently forgotten that the taxi was full, even the conductor was standing, and you know how they don’t like to do that. Hey, don’t blame me; I was trying not to gawk too obviously. Now after a few seconds of reflection on the choice between squashing up on some guy who spent all day working real hard and the scent to prove it and maybe, just maybe, messing up her nice white pants in the process; and just going over to the stage to await another taxi, well being a woman she chose the latter option.

Big mistake numero Uno.

She turned round and walked to the stage. On the way she passed on us – get it – passed on us, in front of the taxi, in her tighter then…whoa! I that the outline of a gundi that I see? Just cradling a Lord Almighty pert as a cheerleader’s bum? By Jove it is and damn if it ain’t FINE! Why that bum is so fine I bet when she wake up in the morning and turn over, the sun just come up.

Big mistake numero Deuce.

Maybe it was the thought that he had lost a fare or maybe he was just itching to express an opinion but whatever it was, the driver just let rip and wouldn’t you believe it like all the men seated behind us just joined in on the chorus. He just unleashed this torrent about women in pants – read trousers – and how he wasn’t having none of it so even if his woman showed up in pants just once, dude, he was going to throw her out on her ear. The way he sees it, if he and the woman both wear trousers than who is THE MAN of the house? Then the goat on my left joins in and he’s Ahmening the driver and then some dude in back is doing the back up vocals and I’m seating there in like shock so deep I couldn’t blink. I know, because I didn’t.

Feeling encouraged, with a choir like that which chauvinistic pig wouldn’t, he shared with us how he once flushed a babe cause she (you guessed it) showed up wearing pants once. Not all her pleas or all the King’s men or all the King’s horses could put his love for her back together again. Then he turns to me (oba feeling concerned that I was not being proactive enough) and proceed to lay out the following line of reasoning that for all my years of schooling, I couldn’t even begin to fathom the utter $&*#@%^ of it.

Here goes, “if you took a fish, which was kind of just swimming peacefully in some water, out of the water and put that fish in a polythene bag and made a knot at the top of the bag and let it be for all of five hours or so, then you undid the knot, how would you like the scent that would come out of that bag?”

I kept my peace and for the second time in as many weeks did a mental check of my earthly savings and how soon they would enable me buy my own vehicle so I would be able to chill out with India.Arie and not some cretin like this that just oozed out from beneath some slime covered rock at the bottom of a pond somewhere in the Nakivubo channel.

So much for … can’t even say it man.

1 Comments:

Blogger Lovely Amphibian said...

Jeez, you sound wired! slow down dude or the transformer'll go burst.

Mon Nov 07, 09:52:00 am  

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