Yinka’s Akoka life – the parry.

Okay don’t judge me for this, but isn’t growing up all about having adventures, trying out new things after all that’s how we learn, experience is indeed the best teacher. This is a tale of deceptive cocktails and fancy hotel bathrooms.

Soooo, after our second semester exams, I was afraid to go home in fear that my mum would ask me for some money I’d spent earlier and I was in no way capable of accounting for, I found myself in an annoying situation, I was bored, and had no one to keep me company since the fact that exams were over meant everyone had gone home to spend time with their families so, I was all alone at my apartment, binge watching episode after episode of all of last year’s great TV series, from GOT, to Orphan Black to Stranger Thing when temptation came my way on the form of my best-friend Victoria, a girl I love very much, but is more like a sister to me than anything else. Victoria came to see me having grown tired of me always complaining of boredom, she stayed a while, we talked and watched movies, I was feeling better by the end of the day having had good company, but before she left she suggested something, she told me of this party, it was DJ Smirnoff’s album launch  and it was apparently supposed to be a big event, being the social butterfly that she is, a trait which always works to her advantage and which I very much envy, she had managed to get me, her older sister and herself tickets to the party. Boy was I excited! I really hadn’t been to a party before…unless you choose to count those birthday parties with the balloons and face paintings and clowns or the owambes which are more or less for grandpas and grandmas (my sincerest apologies to those who enjoy such shindigs), it was to happen in two days, before she left, she helped me pick out clothes (she really doesn’t respect my style. IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE GRUNGY!) and told me to get a haircut.  The next day I went to the salon, cut my hair which I try as much as possible not to touch, ( It is a statement on how proud I am of my African genes, but no one seems to understands that, not my lecturers, not my friends, not my mum. but anyway, it is known, haters gon’ hate) I even went as far as to put in a few highlights in. to say I was looking dapper would be an understatement, that night I slept fitfully, had dreams about meeting my dream girl, the way I visualised it, she would spill a drink on my shirt as I looked down in anger, I’d see the most beautiful eyes, fall in love with them and the rest would be history, now I imagine the devil on my shoulder doing the good ol’ yimu and mumbling “na so” under his breath as those thoughts occurred to me.

Fast forward to the night of the party, the girls were dolled up and I was looking good, the night was looking good. The uber driver arrived and we were on our way to the oriental hotel, we got there and I was in awe, there were beautiful people everywhere, and the ambience was lovely. When we got into the hall the party was to hold, Victoria being the social butterfly that she was disappeared, it seemed like she knew everyone there, and it seemed like everyone wanted a bit of her time, so there I was, left alone with Ore (Victoria’s sister) who was feeling every bit as awkward as I was. Then the waitresses came with the drinks, in my mind this a good thing, I took three cups, I had heard somewhere that alcohol was a social lubricant and I sure as heck needed of the sort at that moment, so I drank, and it was delicious, still I didn’t feel anything, so I kept on asking for more and more drinks, (did I mention the party was sponsored by Smirnoff?) the drinks were delicious and didn’t seem to be that strong, I needed something stronger, I noticed bottles of vodka laying around on the tables and I picked one up, poured myself a full red cup, I drank, it still hadn’t hit me, so I poured another half, before I could take a third sip, I felt it and I felt it bad, my legs were wobbly, my brain was foggy, I couldn’t string together a coherent sentence and that was the last thing I remember, apparently I had taken off my shirt, danced wildly, given my phone to someone I knew and my money to a stranger, before I knew it I found myself in the bathroom at 5am, apparently sometime along the course of the night I had locked myself in the bathroom and passed out, now that I think about it I believe it was because I was scared or embarrassing myself further, so I woke up in a strange bathroom, I opened the door and found the hall totally empty, the only person around was a cleaner who didn’t bat an eyelash at my being there, apparently, this wasn’t out of the ordinary, I found my way out of the hotel, reached for my wallet, the cash in there was gone (obviously) luckily I was able to make a withdrawal with my ATM cards and find my way back to my apartment where I found Victoria and Ore already singing dirges in my name and trying to figure out what to tell my mum, apparently they had to beg people to help search for me, and it was only after they had given up hope that they  had headed back to my place hoping to find me there, I had not only ruined my first night out, I had ruined their night as well.

That was the last time I ever drank, in case you’re wondering what the moral lesson is, well can’t a story just be told for the sake of it? But if you insist, here it is, if you’re a first-time drinker, and you don’t know your limit, just stick to the barest minimum, you can continue from there another day, but as for me, the devil can have his drink, I want no part of it! And will someone please help me beg Victoria to take me out again, I promise, I won’t misbehave.