Part 5
The guy that stood before me was 100% a perfect depiction of what most Nigerian girls want in men- tall, dark and handsome. A deadly combination.

“Oh hi”, I giggled out nervously. “Thank you but I use a lot of products, mostly from the same company but I don’t know them all off hand”.

“No biggie. We’ll just exchange numbers so when you get home, you’ll text me the names of the products. Maybe I’ll get them for my sister as an early Xmas gift”, he said as he slid his phone out of his pocket.

I gave him the best ‘are you kidding me?’ look I had in my reserve. ” Real smooth but I’m not going to give you my number just like that”.

He held up both hands apologetically. “Alright. My bad. Let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Jim Lawal, a friend to the celebrant’s brother and you are?”, He left the question hanging.

“I’m Nancy, Esther’s friend”

“A pretty name for a pretty face”, he said and was rewarded with an eye roll. “So, Esther is …..?”

“Whaaaat?!”, I gasped. “You’re at a party and you don’t know the name of the celebrant?”

“Hey! No hating on me. Boye practically dragged me over here without telling me what was happening. It was that banner-“, he pointed at a black and silver banner opposite us, “- that told me I was at a party but that’s not important.”

“And what is?”

“Question”, he announced and sat down next to me. ” If you’re a friend of the birthday girl, why are you sitting here instead of having fun with her on the dance floor?”

“Well for starters”, I turned towards him. “The celebrant isn’t on the dance floor. She disappeared like an hour ago with her boyfriend”.

He held up a finger. ” Wait… you’re telling me that that girl over there in the pink top and pink shorts, basically looking like cotton candy is not the celebrant?”, He asked bewildered.

“Of course not. Esther wouldn’t be caught dead in an ensemble like that. She’s got more style than that”.

“Good for her”, he stands up. “Can I get you a drink?”

I waved the bottle of coke in his face. “I already have a drink”.

“I mean a strong drink. Beer? Whiskey? Vodka?”

” I’m good. Thanks”.

“Come on”, he groans. “I’m trying to be nice”.

“Well thank you for offering and for being nice too but I don’t drink alcohol”.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “Why? You chicken?”

I scoffed out loud. “Nice try but that doesn’t work on me”.

He started clucking and making chicken sounds and if this has ever been done to you, you know it’s a must to rise up to the occasion to preserve your dignity and that I did.

“Fine. I’ll have a drink”. I stood up and followed him to the refrigerator.

He took a shot glass from a table nearby and poured me something that was crystal clear like water. I remember thinking that since it looked like water, it wouldn’t be too bad.

Boy, how wrong I was.

“This *cough cough cough* really *cough* burns”, I sputtered out.

He nodded approvingly. “I’m impressed. Tears aren’t streaming down your face like they would’ve for someone else”.

Feeling a surge of pride at the compliment, I had this stupid urge to impress him even more. ” Well, I could probably take 2 or 3 more shots without coughing”.

He smirked and boy was he handsome. I almost started swooning right there and then. “Getting cocky are we? Alright-“, he pulled out two more shot glasses, filled up all three with that clear water-like liquid and slid them towards me, “- why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

“Maybe I will”, I retorted feeling a burst of courage.

I downed all three shots forcing myself not to cough. I was really proud of myself at that moment. From there, I began to become slowly unhinged and Jim helped speed that up by making us play drinking games.

To this day, there are gaps in my memory about what happened that day after I got drunk but I can remember playing beer pong and getting even more drunk then moving on to play a very, very s*xual truth or dare game. I also remember dancing foolishly with Jim and both of us stumbling around drunkenly.

Before I tell you the last thing I remember about that day, I’d like to give you a piece of advice.

Do not get drunk. Drinking is overhyped and you’ll more likely than not regret every single thing you did while you were drunk, just like I did.

The final thing I remember- vividly if I may add- about that day was waking up with a terrible headache in one of the guest rooms in Esther’s house. A stranger’s arms were wrapped around me and the blankets covered us up to our collarbone.

Panicking, I lifted the covers and my fear was confirmed.

I was naked.

And so was he.

To be continued….


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