I began to regret offering to look after her, while her minder attends to her personals. Then her mother finally shows up. She thought I deserved a treat and offered to settle my bill for dinner for two at a nearby lodge restaurant. From outside, it looks quiet and decent. With a very clear sign that reads 'Ramotswa Lodge: Bed and Breakfast, Restaurant and Conference Room'. I telephoned my friend who turned the offer down saying he was working until late in the evening. Single dinner? Well, that did not bother me much. I would utilise the evening to read. I am currently reading The Girl Who Played With Fire by Stieg Larsson. I grabbed it and hit the road. It's only a 10-minute walk from my house.
When I got there, the gate was securely closed. It took me about two minutes to figure out what to do next, loudly clearing my throat in an attempt to win the gateman's attention. He wasn't there. I slid the gate gingerly and peeped through until I had fully-surveyed the area. It looked nice and safe. I entered and stopped to admire the beautifully thatched outdoor sitting area that is adjoined to the conference room. 'Good evening' the lady in black and white interrupted, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Hi, I thought there wasn't anyone around. May I have a table for one, please. I prefer one of them," I pointed out to the terrace.
