LEARNING TO CATCH MY FUN
With Okeke Ugo

The shindig was going at full throttle the time my friend Tony and I entered the boisterous scene in the company of other friends. It was somewhere in the heart of Festac Town. It was a storey building affair. The sound system was sound proof and state-of-the-art. The party goers were reveling in high spirit that was infectious. The haze of the clashing fragrances was thick in the already energy charged atmosphere.
Gosh! There were too many young and handsome hommies and beautiful honeys attired in suggestive raw-nerve wrecking party wears. While the hommies took to the reliable tight fitting jeans with low waist base that enhanced their sexuality with the visible lethal bulges and t-shirts of various fittings, the honeys stuck to their drop-dead seductive mini and micro designer pants and skirts. The jingling of their multiple bangles and swinging large and drooping earrings aligned with the vibes coming from the scratches of the disc jockey.
It was Tony’s 27th birthday anyway. He had invited few of his yummy friends to celebrate his birthday and new job with Zenith Bank. I accepted to be at the party live knowing that it was an avenue I’d been looking for over the past four months to battle the near lethargy that had been my bane shuttling to and from work 24/6.
After going through the traffic horrors of Victoria Island and the one on Apongbon stretch of the Eko Bridge, I got home few minutes to 9.00-p.m.
Usually, I leave office about that time to avoid the traffic, but because it was Tony’s day, I left office at six on the dot much to the chagrin of my colleagues in the office.
I had earlier stopped by TFC on my way home for a take-away. Getting home, the veil of darkness as dark as catacombs had enveloped the neighbourhood all but no thanks to the apparition called Problem-Has-Changed-Name. My psyche lacks the conviction to finding the PHCN’s antics tolerable. Anytime I get home and there’s no power supply, I look weakened. The little strength in me would be expended on hissing and sighing and stretching. God! The life of a career minded Nigerian on the last rung of the social strata!
From the door I pulled off my clothes as soon as the key was turned in the lock that by the time I walked into the bathroom, I had changed into my birthday suit. I ran my hands all over my body as I turned the shower running and exhaled knowingly when I got there. Thank God the mai-guard had remembered to pump water into the overhead tank the cold bath was a soothing balm to my steamed temperature. By the time I walked out of the bathroom, my handset was belting out Shakira’s “Hips don’t lie!” sound.
Yes, hips don’t lie indeed! One of my girlfriends was at the door. I had earlier invited her. The temptation of having a quickie with her crossed my mind but my member refused to play ball.
When we entered the charged atmosphere, to my greatest surprise, the reverie clung to me like my second skin. The DJ had scratched a staccato of familiar numbers by popular artistes that got me into the midst of happy revelers on the dance floor with my babe-for-the-night girlfriend in my arms. We danced till we were soaked to the skin.
Tony maneuvered through the dance floor till he came to my side and whispered into my ears. I wound my arm around my girlfriend’s waist as we followed Tony to the bar for a drink. Right there we sang him, “For he is a jolly good fellow!”
I quickly did a mental calculation and was stunned by my findings. This guy Tony would never stop doing things that show maximum utilization of his common sense. Man! From him I learnt that birthday party is best celebrated in a dance club than in a fast food joint or hiring an open space or hall for same purpose. My man did not spend up to N5000 on drinks and sticks. You see the sense? You bring guys who hardly have the time to dance away certain diseases out of their system; they drink lightly to your health and enjoy the opportunity of dallying with the honeys.
When I pointed out my findings to Tony, he patted his roof, which has the tendency to go bald in future. He led his babe by the arm back to the dance floor after giving me a dirty wink. We danced till the break of dawn. I drove home a healthier man with nothing but sleep on my mind.
When my hips don’t lie ring tone woke me up later that Saturday morning; it was one of my colleagues wanting to know if I would not be coming to work. I sighed heavily and questioned the wisdom behind some organizations that have turned a work free day into one when one is supposed to be resting and recovering from vitality that was lost in the past five days. One of the evils of capitalism! It was already 10.00-a.m. boy! I went into frenzy. My boss! “God I’m in for it!”