2 nice youngish ladies, dressed up in their finery get in a taxi and arrive at the Muthaiga (Golf) Club. One slight wrong turn en route down a mud track, but it all adds to the excitement.
The venue looks very promising indeed and the ladies are invited to go upstairs to the ballroom.
Beautiful flowers everywhere and a very welcoming party sound. 2 rooms crammed full of people – mainly tasty and quite fit looking men – and a chocolate fountain as you went in.( Men and chocolate = heaven). Almost immediately a very gorgeous man comes up and welcomes us ( hellloooooo Kareem, the young ladies think to themselves, this is so much better than we hoped for….) He’s swiftly followed by another, plying us with free drinks. (men + chocolate+ alcohol = heaven). But what’s this, wait a moment, surely not a ballroom? A moment of realisation, and oh no, this is a golf promotion party, not the Oxford and Cambridge Dinner which is at the Country Club. Great disappointment, and although we are invited to stay we decide to do the honourable British thing and be on our way. First mistake of the evening, I’d say. We did finish our drinks first, of course.
So, taxi comes back, and after a couple of aborted attempts down dead ends, and a more serious attempt to deposit us at the Goods entrance, the young ladies make it to the Muthaiga Country Club.
A quite promising group of fun looking folk are going in so we follow, fortified by our free drinkies. We go into a very nice room, with a bar, always a good sign and look round to see who to make conversation with. But oh no, for the second time in an hour, what’s that cake with 25 on it doing in here, when it’s the 80th anniversary dinner. Why is everyone looking at us? So this isn’t the Oxford and Cambridge Society dinner then? Swift exit through door at end of room..looking a little pinker than when we entered…
Not to be outdone we ask for directions and after a hike through the undergrowth (Sandra wearing satin evening shoes with beads sewn on them, and this is the rainy season) we reach the ballroom. Sadly we are the only people to have reached the ballroom.
We then have to re hike to another room where the AGM is taking place. As the ladies are almost an hour late they peer through the door, noting the blue rinses, and decide to sit outside and fortify themselves with a G and T, in preparation for what suddenly doesn’t look like such a fun evening. But what’s this? Not a Club Member Madam? Oh really we don’t accept anything as vulgar as money here. You can’t buy a drink.
A little sulking goes on, whilst the ladies look round at the others who also didn’t make it on time. It’s so not promising, that suddenly they wonder if a total rebellion is on the cards. More people arrive, most of whom have difficulty walking unaided. Suddenly the ladies can stand it no more and with another quick peek in the room confirming their worst fears that surely this must be the over eighties anniversary dinner, not the eightieth anniversary dinner, they do a runner. Hiding in a bar near Reception whilst they wait for their taxi, Sandra becomes Barbara , Babs for short, just in case the organiser passes by… The naughty girlies are offered another drink, and despite the fact that Amanda is looking very fit in a short dress with lots of white leg flashing around, we cannot have a drink in that bar either as we are Not Members. As I text the organiser to give our apologies, we are then almost evicted from the premises, because we don’t tolerate those evil mobile phones in here, thank you very much Madam..
So, looking our most glam we eat at the Osteria and have a few drinkies at Casablanca…..
We are wondering how to get an invite back to the Golf Club, mind you….
