So I finished my last paper on Thursday…it was a great triumph since Uncle Ari (lecturer) kept on mentioning my name in class, he even gave me marks for attending his classes…but that’s because I wasn’t the brightest, these things of resolving forces on structures was just to imaginary for me, anyway back to the point. It started out on Thursday after my afternoon paper…I was done, finished. And it being a Thursday, only one place rocks it for me…Rock night at steak out. Me and my friends decided to see Friday’s morning sun, it had been long.
So we psyche for the evening by taking mugs of coffee, can’t seem to trust ourselves, if will make it for tomorrow’s rising, not with this unpredictable rain. So around 11.00, first bunch heads out, to survey and give us the details for who is who and who is in the house. A message later comes in, that the place is warming up, a transition from corporate to campus crazy. We head out A.S.A.P, we don’t want to be left out on the roll call list, my attendance during exam period was unmentionable.
Clock 12.00 midnight
We are being checked by the bouncer…he barely lifts his arm when he realises that we are the usual suspects, just ushers us in. crowd behind is pouring in.
We are at the counter, we quickly ask for 2(two) Alvaros(that sweet substance used in cocktails)…and a quarter UG, the great African waragi, and we make our cocktails.
Half a waragi is in my tumbler and the sweet cocktail juice…we call it punch. A mixture of alcohol and sugar, a baby wouldn’t live to tell the story. And the party begins
My blood has endured the fast paced rock music sipping through my ears, some cocktails and continuous vigorous shaking that they call dancing. It’s getting dirty at a faster rate than usual. Risk of black out 25%. We are getting there.
Reminiscing on the semester, can’t fail but regret why I did the bloody course. The books are overwhelmingly frustrating. This calls for a shot, and down with the cocktail, now turn to those brown curviliscious bodies, the brown bottle, Ugandan men’s finest woman substitute, you just love it, and its very cheap, you don’t have to dress it, unlike those real women.
50%, my heart is pumping the juices through my body, I start beating it like Mike J, even better than MJ. The fact that am near scantly dressed young girls, things just keep on getting worse, blood is almost at boiling water…if using that phrase can give you the idea better.
Voice recognition low, slurry…eye sight, slanted, close to night blindness. Body movement, incoherent with the music playing. Sounds seem to be loud. More alcohol. At this time, I think there are probably mixes of a Club, 2 Bells and some Guinness with a tinge of Smirnoff, the mind has reached its zenith, body in equilibrium…mind has lost control of the body carrying.
Dead and almost gone…but not yet out. Voice recognition devices needed hear. Starting to sound like one of those robbers with enhanced base and a mixture of some T-pain n’ Lil Wayne. Swagger in full mode, a little shouting. Blood to alcohol ratio, in percentage, 100%. Skipped 75% because I was beyond that in 30 mins.
Some where around 6.00, the rain starts to fall heavy, all the while I was jumping around, now its time to sit, my leg feeling out, control of hands…0(zero), now losing control of body and mind, now in hands of the alcohol. Sitting down worsens the situation because it’s when it becomes more active and settles. Nervous system shut down…
I start to remember what I ate for supper as it hits the oesophagus, the stomach repels the excess concoction of beverage I have had. I start to curse every tiny bit of drop I took and hope I don’t go towards the light. Then “SPLASH”, followed by, another “BIG SPLASH”, argh vomit…the stomach pain. The bouncers quickly throw me into the rain.
I can see the stars, the clear blue sky, the sun begins to trickle, taking over the rain…my heart starts to beat…ti..ti..ti,(mu luganda) think it sounds like that. My little life just flashed before me, my problems forgotten, I think, temporarily, all this fuss about education and everything I hate. My guts, I pick them up, swallow them….
She picks me up, I allow for it, she’s soft compared to my rugged skinned tanned with numerous cuts I got from playing that sport. It’s warm here, I have to stay here, only for a little longer. My eyes open,…. am told we closed the bar, but she’s still there, right next to me. I almost puked my guts for this damsel, just her warmth. I’ll do it next time, and this time, am aiming for a leg.
I almost puked my guts out after being given the sack. Life sucks for real.
On the other hand
Lol on the Nigerian movie critique…They always bandage the head even when shot in the chest…and every thing is spiritual…and the high God is & can be reached by a bloody pastor…huh…this shallow African perception is nerve wrecking… Wole Soyinka