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Why I hate Night Club bouncers

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I hate Night Club bouncers. There, I have said what everyone fears to say. I have been man handled a couple of times and these experiences have helped build foundations of disdain in my heart. I have lost a lot of money, broken a few pairs of spectacles and gone home with bruised elbows all because of bouncers.

Some time back, before I developed some muscles, I used to get frozen at almost every club, mainly because I had a baby face. I happen to have a few friends who are bouncers. To be honest, I wish they chose another profession. Why spend a cold night with a frown on your face, wearing a small T-shirt, looking like the Incredible Hulk when in reality, it’s the Incredible Sulk. One particular experience sealed the fate my relationship with club bouncers.

A certain Friday morning I woke up at 8 am. I had slept early on Thursday night because I couldn’t handle the stress I was going through. I had tried a few tots of Viceroy but immediate effects were taking too long to occur. Miraculously, I managed to fall asleep.  Flora had rejected all my advances. She made it clear that she wasn’t interested. However, man has to persist. Having spent the whole of Thursday trying to woo her via Whats App, she agreed to come to my crib that evening.  I cleaned and cooked but unfortunately, she didn’t show up.

I couldn’t study. I had invested so much of my effort and capital in her, now she was just shoving me aside. I promised myself I would wake up early on Friday morning to prepare for a CAT that was due at 9. Now I had woken up at 8. I had only one hour, furthermore, my crib was quite far from the campus

I opted not to panic. My Fridays were never compatible with academics anyway. I rarely studied on Fridays. All the CATs I had done on Fridays had resulted in automatic fails. My efforts to change that annoying trend had turned out fruitless. I remember when I scored 10 out of 30 in one of those Friday tests. To make matters worse, a lady classmate who had a crush on me was the one who brought me the marked paper. From that day all the interest she had in me faded.

I quickly prepared myself then rushed to class. The lecturer was already in class, issuing the question papers. Since I hadn’t revised, I was quick to spot one of the class geniuses sitting alone. I went and sat next to him hoping to utilize some bird’s eye view on his answer sheet. I rarely copied, but I was so tensed and stressed up.  I couldn’t let another 10 out of 30 score get in the way between me and another potential crush.

There was another problem I forgot about. I didn’t have my spectacles’ on. This genius guy had very tiny handwriting. At intervals, he even made efforts to cover his work. My attempts to copy went haywire. It seemed history was about to repeat itself. Even during the injury time minutes the guy wouldn’t let me copy. The injury time minutes constitute those minutes when the test is about to end. During that brief window, the lecturer’s concentration is usually low and students begin discussing in low tones. It is during these injury time moments that the clever students get up to collect their answer sheets and as a result, lecturers usually tend to concentrate more on them rather than on the people still writing. Lecturers are always keen to see the smart students who complete tests before time. Thus these moments are the most convenient to copy or inquire from the person seated next to you. Sadly for me, this genius guy wouldn’t even answer me when I inquired. When I insisted he pretended not to know, and then got up to collect his answer sheet.  To make matters worse, the guy seated on my other side was as blank as me. The CAT was a complete catastrophe.

My spects, which had cost me a good portion of my HELB loan, broke the previous Friday after a bouncer punched me and shoved me out of the club for nearly chips fungaing his girl. I hadn’t replaced them yet so I wasn’t seeing tiny things very well.


The events of the previous Friday were still fresh in my mind.  I had gone to a popular club with a few of my classmates. We decided that we were too loaded to go to small clubs so we tried a more lavish club. It was an unforgettable spell of time.

I felt luxurious lying on one of those blue cabana loungers, listening to the DJ spinning trance tunes nearby while I sipped margaritas. My friends all seemed to be having a good time accommodating twerks from ladies but I was completely disinterested in venturing into the dance floor. I just needed to get wasted. After sinking in the loungers for a while, I went and sat on one of the stools at the counter. As I rummaged in my wallet for a Sh1000 bill, I sensed someone lean behind me. I felt warm breath against the skin of my neck. I also sensed something round and soft pressing against my shoulders. My high awareness levels alerted me to the presence of a female.

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