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Monday, December 20, 2010

the quest

The quest was ours for the night. A couple of knights in shining amour out to buy the fuel that would quench the thirst of the dragon that was to be slain that night. The mission was simple enough though potentially fraught with difficulties: get alcohol before you come to this party. The situation was that my brother and I had been picked up at 12 for a party that was going on. At this point I would like to say how good it feels to be picked up for a party. Its an amazing experience, your night is over, maybe you had supper watched a movie, watched some TCM (which played a few good men recently.) your night is over and you’re ready to retire to bed and this plan comes along t out of nowhere so no matter how bad the night is going to be your day was already over its just a free extra.

So the guy with the two dogs from the tyre changing picks us up. In the front of the car there’s this French speaking girl who I’ll just refer to as French girl from now on. The guy I’ll call French guy (they speak really good French and good English too.) at that time of the night the driver is usually a little sloshed and we’re all good with it. The car drives at a speed that’s a little dangerous but the night air wafts in and fills everyone up with expectation, hope and promise. This is when men feel like men perharps also when boys act like boys, caution is thrown to the wind and since the car is going so fast and the windows are open before long the caution is too far behind you to make a difference.

The stated mission was to buy alcohol and go forth with it to the party. The first place we went to was nakumatt junction. By the time we got there it was obviously closed, I knew this and I can’t say why didn’t mention it was closed maybe it had a lot to do with the night air. Am glad I didn’t because when we got there the barriers that usually block cars from entering weren’t there, it looked deserted and this led to the following gem of a conversation,

French girl: even the barriers aren’t there they must be closed.
French guy: woman, you mean when they go home they pack the barriers and go home with them? Can you be serious?

Classic zinger. We all snicker a little. A suggestion is made of that pizza inn store, can’t remember its name but we go there. The prices were highly unfriendly. At that place we wouldn’t have gotten enough fuel to slay the dragon, if we knew what would happen next we may have buckled down and bought but hindsight is 20/20, maybe that’s why we’ll never achieve vision 2030. We drive on to nakummat prestige to buy the alcohol. We enter and it looks shabby. Not dirty or derelict just not befitting its image from a few years back. I remember when nakummat prestige first opened its doors. That mall was the shit! I used to love meeting people there cos if they were late I could rummage through the book store or look at what new movies were playing or even go to the music store and bitch about the woeful lack of we were four music. It was lovely and oh, so classy. Then junction came along and embarrassed the hell out of its big sister, after that we had Westgate and by then it was all nakummat pres-who? Anyway it looked shabby. Not dirty or derelict just not prestigious.

We entered the supermarket and started off towards the alcohol store. Here I would like to say that as shabby as it is the supermarket is huge. I felt like we were walking down a zombie wasteland hours and hours in quest of the alcohol practically training for a marathon. plus it’s convoluted like a maze in a building and that’s always amazing in a building, congratulations architect. Anyway we get to the secluded alcohol spot lo and behold, at this point i want to build up the suspense so much that what comes next is an anti-climax because that’s what it was for us.

Instead of well wishes from whiskey, greetings from gin, voyages courtesy of vodka, bear hugs from brandy all we get is this notice about the new alcohol bill and how they can only sell alcohol between 10 am and 830 pm. We bounced around a few more supermarkets like IDP’s with a little hope as they have at this point. We finally left as shabby as nakummat disappointed, derelict and ultimately sober.

Then the next day those NACADA(association against drugs, alcohol and who knows what else.) guys ask me for a donation to help their fight against alcohol and drugs, really? REALLY?