On Wednesday, at hotel presidential, I strolled into the platinum lounge through semi-walls. The atmosphere was charged, like a high tension ferrying a million volts with all the attendant consequences. It was the 3rd year anniversary celebration of the Port Harcourt comedy club and the artists billed to perform for the night were all strolling aimlessly.
The organizers were disappointed, although they tried, desperately, to hide their disappointments within the confinement of induced laughter. The areas reserved for the VIPs who were too busy politicking to show up, fell at the feet of intruders like myself.
I was happy that I had come early even though the disappointment that the guys felt reverberated through the hall. Those who were billed to perform at the Port-Harcourt comedy club, wanted to show the world that which they had in stock, especially the politicians of whom they have complained times without numbers that they have not been supportive.
I chose a table close to this elegantly dressed lady. Beautiful face, light makeover, simple but expensive weavon that bounced off her shoulders, goddess-like composure. You will almost mistake her for Cookey on the Empire set.
She looked much like my age mate and her face glittered at the flash of the club lights. I waved as I sat, quietly. She nodded in reply. Her face was beaming with smile to have uttered a word. Perhaps she is with a lover who has gone out to take care of something special I thought to myself and she is smiling at the possibility of fight or something . Even if she was with one, I will only sit until the gentleman comes back.
But she had just one glass with some colourful liquid I did not understand, sipping at a possible count of hundred. How she did it, with such alluring patience.
The organizers where doing their usual cheap talks as one guy serenaded our souls with his beautiful soulful songs that were too special to be described. I would have taken pictures but I forgot the camera at home. Besides, the board did not approve money for logistics so I only came to entertain myself and feel alright.
I stared at her, and back to the singer, back to her again with all the desirable attractions. She brought her face close to a whispering level and asked why I kept staring at her.
“You are so beautiful, it almost made you ugly” I said!
She chuckled, and then it blew up into a wild, uncontrollable laughter.
“That’s a terrible thing for you to say” she said!
“Well, I am terrible. How does that sound”
She smiled again and it earned me a tap on the shoulder. I was happy she got the compliments wrapped up in joke box.
I signaled one of the waitresses. I wanted something to wet my soul with. I did it like I had come prepared. I pointed at a bottle on the bar shelf, from the distance that was longer than the price.
“Oh, that?”
I nodded
“45, 000”
I gulped and muttered to my self ‘in this Buhari’s Nigeria?’
How about the red one?
“60k”
And the campari?
“12k”
Even Campari?
She nodded
The whole hotel is how much I asked? That’s what I want to buy this time.
She laughed…
As a street boy that was not ready to impress anyone, I kept my face on the music till the waitress advised herself. It is not like I can’t afford the 60k drink. One might do it to feel big, but for how many minutes of meaningless fame? I have bills, a lot of them and I have sworn never to impress anyone anymore.
“All their drinks here are too expensive” she said, you know, my table mate.
I nodded. I hope she is not trying to bring back talks about those awfully expensive drinks, hoping I will be cowed into buying any. Things are hard. I won’t lie to you. Perhaps, I will just walk home, away from their expensive shit and save myself from heartbreak.
She waved another waitress, you know, my number 2. The one who had come before was gushing at a man who looked like a general. She asked the waitress to get one of the drinks that the devil had billed for 45k.
“The devil is at the dance floor waiting for a partner. Don’t let him use you, don’t let him use son, or you won’t sleep well for a week” my heart sang.
I was not the one who asked the waitress to get the drink. Why bother? I have swallowed my atm card. Wetin concern me. I returned her smile and focused on that which the singer sold to eager ears, for they came in melodious increments, like the bagpipes of the cherubim and sarafins.
I saw KOBABA and stood up to where he sat quietly observing and greeted him. I introduced myself as that young man who met him at Ediz wine bar and chased him to Edens lounge. He remembered and asked how I was doing and I went back to my original position.
By now, a wine glass was standing before me, with the waitress struggling to to lift the lid of the expensive trouble. She succeeded and poured a bit for me and walked away.
Something distracted number 2 and when she turned back to the table, she asked if the wine was good, thinking that I had tasted it. I took the glass, ran a shot into my mouth and shook my head. “It is nice” I said.
We watched artist after artist perform while laughing into the night and then the dance that followed. Life felt awesome and I was getting a bit tipsy. I stared at my watch, 1:36 am. When did I get here? I must get going . My place is far. I don’t know if I will still be able to get a taxi.
The last time I was there, around February, the jokes were so hilarious that I forgot time. Walking down to Rumuola junction, some 3 boys began walking to me, speaking their bg slangs. I turned back and we raced a bit till I found myself inside the hotel. They were lucky that I didn’t want to fight that night. They would have gone home with broken bones.
I stood up to leave. She stared at me with a compelling look. “The party is just getting started”
“Well, my place is far”
“You can lodge or something”
“na so” I muttered
“It is nice meeting you Mr…….”
“Kenechi” I rescued her.
…. Mr. Kenechi. I really had a great time”
“Same here” I replied!
“This is my card. We can talk on the phone if you don’t mind”
“Cool” then she dug a gold-coloured card from her purse and handed it over.
The waitress who sold the wine, thinking I was about running away, came with her pos and gently kept it on the table.
“You don’t even drink much” staring at the remaining liquid in the bottle”
“I am alright” I said.
“Well, it’s cool. You are gentler than your face shows”
I winced. Not again.
“How much is everything?” she asked the waitress.
She gave her the bill and she handed her card to her for instant debit and everyone was happy.
At the waiting hall of the hotel, on my way out, I met a former school mate. He was coming in with his girlfriend. His father ran some stuff for a former governor who is now a minister. We spoke for a couple of minutes and he wanted me to go back in with him and I will have to pass the night at his place which was close. I told him that I have some issues to deal with and I will have to be awake before 6 and handle stuffs. He pleaded. I refused.
I took a glance at the card. Well, girl is running shows for her father in one of their branches in Port Harcourt. Affluence, street smart. But that’s none of my business unless she has business. I walked outside the hotel, no taxi in view. We are here again. While I thought of what to do next, a dark suv pulled over. I was at alert waiting to take off again.
“Kenechi, you are still here since then” number 2 asked with her tiny voice as she rolled down the back window of her muscle.
I nodded.
“I am not sure if you are going to get a cab this night again. Where is your place?”
I told her.
“It is far. If not, the driver would have driven you home before we go back home”
“I will be fine”
“no you won’t. Hop in. You can sleep in the guest room and the driver will take you home very early”
“No, thank you”
“Come on. This town is not safe”
“I will find my way. Don’t worry”
“Well, if you insist. I will call you”
“OK. Thanks”
I turned back, back to the lounge and sat looking at the stories that will make the morning publications, rewiring them and checking traces of them on Google until dude was tired of dancing with his girlfriend and signaled for us to go.
“But you are not going to drive me in your drunken state. I don’t want to die”
“Don’t worry, oga, I am the one driving” she said and just like that, she hit a pillar before we could make it out of the hotel and I came down.
