The usher manning the staircase leading upstairs was snooty and crude. There was a brief altercation. My friend said, “You can’t talk to clients like that. What is this, a bloody gulag?”
Anyway, a gentleman called Faizel whose card read, Chief Enthusiast showed up and smoothed things out. Thus started the evening at Nairobi Street Kitchen, on Nairobi's Mpaka Road, recently— with a bad taste in my mouth.
