NightLife: Service can be black and white at the Zebra Inn

The first time I went to the Zebra Inn on Albertina Sisulu Street, not far from the Maboneng precinct in downtown Johannesburg, was to attend a friend's party. The venue worked well for the off-the-wall vibe he was aiming for. You see, the Zebra Inn is an old hunting club.

The owner, an Austrian retiree nicknamed Swazi, brags about having killed more than 300 animals. If you doubt him, many of their heads are mounted on the walls. Stuffed birds and monkeys pose playfully on dried branches and buck of all sizes eyeball you from the walls. If you stand by the bar, you will feel the zebra's eyes on your drink.

That first night the basket of riblets, wings and chips was heaven to our hungry drunkenness, all for R60. I visited the Zebra Inn a couple more times with very notable experiences on both occasions.

Once was a quiet Wednesday evening during which Swazi was so sociable to my white gentleman friend and I, including giving us the grand tour, that we excused the greasy roadhouse grub as quaint.

When next I visited with my boyfriend, looking for a bite close to home, the reception was surprisingly cold. We arrived to find ourselves the only patrons and Swazi, seated at the bar, did not return our greeting. The bar attendant was too busy cleaning glasses to pay us any attention. Then a few friends of other races arrived from Maboneng and, boom, while we waited for the woman behind the bar, she had served a group of six drinks and snacks as they stood either side of us.

Rarely do I ask "Is it because I'm black?", but the suddenly chatty Swazi somehow made me convinced that things at the Zebra Inn can be fairly black and white. We left to eat someplace else.

I had every intention of never returning, but curiosity got the better of me and I set off to the inn for one last time.

Swazi was quick to appear after I asked to speak with him. I told him about my previous experience in his inn.

Cue the second blind side; Swazi sincerely apologised. He was surprised. He said he couldn't recall the evening and asked "Had I been drinking?" To which I responded: "No, you didn't serve me."

When I told this story to a friend who is a regular at the inn, she said: "He can be a grumpy old man."

• The Zebra Inn is at 252 Albertina Sisulu Street, Maboneng.