I am not Bill, you're mistaken. What I write when I am Hungry.

 A new tale.

So this one evening, I was in a nightclub. Specifically at H2O Kololo. I saw this cute light-skinned babe. She was looking hot. I took two steps back for a closer sight. You know club lights can make an old grannie look 24. So I had to be careful and make a thorough observation. I kept stealing an eye on her multiple times, but later decided to let her realize that I was deliberately paying attention to her. After confirming the expectation, I could then make my move. I first visited the washrooms to _kunyara obwooba_. 

Comfortable, with my glass in hand, I walked straight to her with a feigned air of confidence. Eye to eye contact, I approached her table, instead of maintaining the eye contact, I stood and faced the direction where her face was facing. So we happened to be looking at the same thing; a group of young girls shaking their bodies vigorously like they have got no bones. The girls had little nyash but they were over-shaking. 

After some 30 seconds of silence, I suddenly said, "Are you treating or I am treating?". The question was a shock to her, and she suddenly said, "Sorry?", in a tone that suggested she hadn't heard well what I was talking about.

I felt my belt loose, as though my pants would drop any time from then. My ears were all shaking, like a pine branch being overwhelmed by the wind. My hands started shaking, and my blood vessels came on top of the skin all of a sudden. Fear engulfed me seriously, and I wasn't sure about what to do and how to go about it. I was in shaky mood all around me. But I wondered whether the Prosper that would speak the hell when facing the public is the same prosper failing to respond to a "sorry?". I finally asked, "How do you rate their dancing strokes?"

She responded that it was average, upon which I expressed the fact that they were not worth our eyes.

 To cut the story shorter, I managed to get her off that place, and we walked a little outside mbu to "see the stars". After a brief walk of seeing the stars, and appreciating the environment, we came back to sit, and continue with the night. Exchanging smiles and cheers, my glass had run dry. My pockets were also throwing a yellow light for me that they were about to run red. I was amazed more than amused when she suddenly suggested to get me a drink AT HER BILL. Well, remember, all this time, we had not asked for each others names. My glass was refilled, we drank and kept exchanging smiles and sexy eyes,..

As part of the mission, I asked her to do a dance with me. And which she gladly accepted. Now, I am not a good dancer, especially that rubs-dancing. I am used to my MJ style. You can imagine the pressure in me, all to prove a point. Instead of exposing my dancing mediocrity, I busied her mind with pecks and jokes till we sat again. A good exchange of pecks as though they were handshakes. After taking back our seats, I started explaining the philosophy of stars and zodiac signs, I felt intelligent as she picked deep interest. Remember every smile brought is rewarded with a peck. I think the amount I received that day is much more than all that I have received in my lifetime......

 It's 3AM and I have to leave. But we don't know each other's names. Secondly, I wanted to leave her in suspense. I 'received' a phone call, and I have to dive off. She's not happy with it but she had to bear it. I wrote my contact ( a number I had last used two years before), and the name, "Bill". 

I came feeling big about how I had enjoyed the night with Ms. Becky. Ms. Becky was only good for the night and that night. I had no intention of following up. Feeling big at how I had pulled out the biggest deceptive stunts for the Friday night, I slept soundly like a baby...

Weeks later, I am walking along Parliamentary Avenue in my suits. I directly meet her but pretend to know nothing. She, in a shocked tone, said 'Hi". I replied with a show on my face that depicted nothing but wonder at who this woman who had recognized me was. She was like, "hey, I am Becky. We were together in a Club last time". I said, "Sorry, a club, which Club? Rotary?". She asked, "Aren't you Bill?" Me, "Bill, no I am Prosper. I don't know any Bill". Then she said, "You look like Bill a lot. You resemble each other". I looked straight into her face, at the lips that were pecking me the other night, and said, "A lot of people normally mistake me for someone else. Sorry". And gently walked Off.

END OF STORY 

What I write When I am Hungry.

Now, you well know that the What I write when I am hungry Series is a mixture of real life stories with some exaggeration, and some imagination. We meet in the next series of  What I write When I am hungry_. 

My Mobile Money is now open at 0778379076. You can share lunch with me.