The Prostitute & The Skater-Boy

I have been going out a lot recently – for a multitude of reasons. One of those weekends I ended up at some club in the west end. It was one of those nights that I really shouldn’t have gone out. The night before had a been a long one and earlier on in the day, I had been in a flurry of ferrying people to and fro. The weather had been gray and damp all day and by nightfall, it was a torrential downpour. All I wanted to do was curl up in bed next to a warm body. However, I found myself with a bunch of girls paying stupid money I didn’t have to get into some club.

I don’t know what it was about that night but the party turned out to be a naij fest and it spat out soo many characters from my past it was unbelievable. First off, was family. I saw my 30 something year old cousin celebrating his paper anniversary with his beautiful wife. A few moments later, I saw my 18 year old cousin tripping up to me (a gaggle of similar aged boys in tow) all excited and thrilled to be in the same club as me (much to my horror).

I was dancing jejerly with my girls when some obnoxious guy came up and tried to dance behind me. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept coming back the whole night – to my immense irritation. On my way to the bathroom to escape, I bumped into this girl. I didn’t recognise her until she asked if I was friends with so and so. I smiled yes, said hi and walked away. It was only after I got into the bathroom that it hit me – I had met her at a friend’s houseparty and we had bonded over laughter and alcohol. Unfortunately I didn’t remember her name (I’m good with faces, never names L), and ofcourse I didn’t see her again after that. Another person who probably thinks I’m up my own ass.

Walking out of the bathroom, I saw a guy sitting on a table by himself and did a double-take. “Jimmy A?” I called out in surprise and lo and behold it was him. Jimmy is my “Skater-boy”. You know the Avril Lavigne song – “He was a skater-boy, she said see you later boy, he wasn’t good enough for her.” I hadn’t seen him in almost 15 years. Back then he really liked me and we used to talk. Unfortunately for him, he was quite geeky and didn’t have much going for him beyond his ability to engage me in long conversations. Well, now he’s looking really good. All tall, filled out, polished and general all round fine. He just moved here to do some amazing job from the states – and I’m a sucker for yankee accents. He definitely remembered who I was as he nicely reminded me that “ I had wanted something better” back in those days. I mean that was back in my shallow days, can a sister get a break?

Moving on … during my wanderings, I bumped into this guy that I also hadn’t seen in years. I met him when I was about 19/20. I got introduced to his circle of friends and we used to hang out. Back then he was around 30 and was the married guy. Yet he used to go to the bars and clubs with us – almost every weekend, without his wife. Years later, there he was still doing the same thing. Guys believe me, you don’t want to be that guy.

After a bit more dancing, I headed to the bar to get a drink and ran into Joe Light. Joe Light is the last “serious” relationship I had. He is now very married. We spent a few moments catching up before he had to leave. There’s a lot of gist about Joe but I’ll blog about that another time. Luckily, there were no pangs so it was all good.

I was chilling by the bar hanging with my girls when someone pressed a cold glass against my arm. I turned around in surprise and saw a cute guy standing beside me. He started chatting to me and I thought annoying way to try and pick a girl up, but nice French accent ... plus he is quite cute as well, so I decided to give him a chance. He starts talking about how this is his first time to London and he’s staying at the Holiday inn. Next thing we have this conversation:

French Dude - What are you doing afterwards? like about 3 o’clock?

Me – (ok talk about specific!) Nothing. I’m going home to bed

FD – with me? Haha (fake laughter)

Me – haha, No.

FD – But seriously, you come home with me after?

Me – No. I’m going home to my boyfriend

FD – after you come home with me, hehehe

Me – Errr ok, No! (thinking you’re becoming seriously obnoxious now and turning back to my friends)

FD – How much, I pay. Just tell me how much?

Me – huh?

FD – Any price, I’ll pay anything. Just tell me how much!

Me – (realisation dawning – oh my Lord, this guy actually thinks I’m a PROSTITUTE!!!) Nooooooooo!!!!! And I back off and escape to my friends

I think I was too shocked/surprised to even be insulted. The guy genuinely thought I was a hooker. I mean I know the boobies were out on display but damn! For real? I couldn’t even insult him, I was that shocked.

After that, I felt I’d had enough. I found some seats and just chilled the rest of the evening. I spotted about 3 people I went to school with, 2 other girls I knew and 3 other guy friends who were just out randomly for the evening. No wonder people don’t believe me when I say I don’t go to Nigerian parties.

To make matters worse, it was still pissing down with rain by the time the club ended and we had to walk ages before we could get a cab. Generally not a very good night but a hell of an interesting one.