What I have here you will not believe. This, ladies and gentlemen, is no ordinary Coca Cola. This, friends and colleagues, is a Speke Resort Munyono Coca Cola.
Naturally, therefore, it costs a lot more than a merely mortal coke. Two thousand five hundred shillings. Now, experience has shown the wise among us, those of us who are not too stupid or stubborn to learn, that when it comes down to it, there is no difference between a coke from that converted container outside your school and a coke at a posh hotel.
It’s like Rihanna vs That Chick From Vogue Magazine on UBC. The difference is not in the essence. The difference is in the ephemera. In the superficial, the surface, the add-ons, the things that surround the essence. You see, when it boils down to it, Rihanna and TCFVMOUBC are basically the same thing: sources of televised amusement. The only difference is the packaging. Riri is soooo hot, banange.
It’s the same with a coke. And if I pay a lot more for a soda, I expect it to be Rihanna. I expect it to come in a very clean glass. With a wedge of lemon and some ice. On a coaster. And with a waiter if not a waitress smiling as if they would sincerely be more than happy to wipe my ass for me should I require it.
I certainly did not expect to pay 2,500 bob for a soda in a plastic tumbler that had evidently just been scrubbed with steel wool.
You should know that this was at the poolside at Speke Resort. It costs 20,000 to swim in the Olympic-sized pool on the premises, but to just sit around and not swim at all costs 10,000. That’s the entry charge for non-swimmers.
Why would they charge you to do nothing?
It’s not because they are after your money, by the way. No. It is evidently to discourage broke m**like myself from thinking they can just stroll in and buy nothing but a coke and then stroll out as if Speke F. Resort Munyonyo is their kafunda.
I am willing to bet, I am willing to bet a lot of money, that if I was actually a big spender, probably from outside countries, Nigeria inclusive, and I walked into Speke Resort Munyonyo’s pool area dangling Toyota Harrier keys and wearing Ray-Bans, and if I actually swam, then got out of the pool and ordered a Milan steak with my coke, that shit would come in a glass. With a lemon wedge and some ice. On a coaster. And the waiters would offer to wipe my wet ass for me.
I am sure of it.
<the writer obviously doesn’t drive a Toyota harrier but desperately wants his wet ass wiped>