There I was sitting quietly at a popular restaurant in downtown Kampala, minding my own business, when a friendly looking waitress came up to me, like they normally do at such places, to take my order, or so I thought.
"Excuse me Madam, but you cannot sit here unless you order something to eat or drink for more than five thousand!"
I looked up at her in surpise. This was not what I had expected to hear. I am rather slow in responding in such situations and didn't know what to say. She however, was not short of words.
"I have noticed you here before. Sitting for hours with your friends only drinking a soda and water."
I found my voice at last. But not much else. "Excuse me?" was all I could come up with. The waitress however was just getting into her element.
"Yes, I served you last time you were here and all you had was a coke and mineral water."
I felt my heart beginning to beat faster and my breathing becoming more difficult. I fought to control my emotions as they changed from shock to indignation and then anger.
"You must be mistaking me for someone else," I spoke quietly but firmly. Could it be the brightly coloured kitengi I was wearing that she didn't like or was this the way they welcomed their customers in this resturant?
"It is you," the waitress insisted. "You were even wearing a brown sweater."
I had had enough! The kettle boiled over and I don't think it is wise to write down everything I said next. Briefly it went something like this: "##$%*!?% $#!!#&*$$4 #*&%!"
"You know it is my boss who told me to come and tell you," the waitress said slowly backing away.
I sat there wondering why she had picked on me. I didn't leave even though I was tempted to. Instead I ordered a soda and mineral water when another waitress came up. I pulled out my notebook computer and started typing away at a story that had just dropped into my head. Something about a sad, vindictive, malicious waitress.
