There I stood, watching excitedly as this enchantingly beautiful lady assumed an…indescribable position at a corner adjacent from me. I just stood there, overwhelmed. Okay. I’m in a club. There are lots of girls here who are deliciously dressed in revealing clothes. My mind is racing and my ‘thing of man’ (Yorubas call it Nnkan omo okunrin) is moving at a high velocity as well, poking my trousers. Lots of extremely attractive ladies yet this particular one just happens to be mesmerizing. At first glance, there’s no noticeable quality that distinguishes her from other girls. Thanks to the club lights and the accompanying effect of alcohol, each and everyone of them looks like a goddess. This is not my first time nor 76th time in the club. I’m not a patron. I’m that guy who comes to the club to socialize. And to womanize. To feed my eyes. And to fill my cup with booze and ice. Okay, so I’m still in that awestricken position. There’s something preternatural about this lady and in all honesty, it’s not the double seater cushion that is her buttocks. You should see Abiola’s own. Not only is it bigger than this, but there are times when Abiola is in Bariga and her yansh is still trying to hop in a bus in Shomolu to keep up with its bearer. I should call Abiola some time. But there’s an aura that surrounds this girl that ‘magnets’ my attention. I bring out a stick of cigarette from its box and light it. As I did this I summoned courage and approached this…mysterious woman. I employed some coolness with which I walked toward the table she was standing. Now she was assuming another hypnotic position. E be like na rubber dey this girl waist. Oh my Jesus. My little Johnny (little here is used figuratively as my Johnny is quite…enormous) bulged. I know, buddy. I know.
Trap trap in a Bando….
Every female entity in the club, not excluding the waitresses, responded to the song with the rapid oscillation of their butt cheeks. I felt another bulge in my underwear. Easy, fella. Every guy in the club, dumbfounded. Hypnotized. Brainwashed. I continued my journey.
I said as I tapped her on the shoulder. She shuddered. She looked back at me. Damn, her makeup is well blended. She has nice hair. I have no idea if it’s a weave on or a wig. Scarcely do I know anything about these things. She’s looking at me now. With a glance, she did a quick scan. I happen to know that look too well. It’s tradition.
She responds grudgingly. She turns away from me. Her friends are looking at me like I’m wearing an armor of shit. I’m forced to look at myself as well. There’s a synchronized laughter. One of a mocking nature. I retrace my steps. I return to my friend’s table. I don’t get hassled by things like this. I know say na me fuck up.
Igboro. Owo lo n se Igboro…
It’s not coincidence that this song comes on. My friend is teasing me now.
Oh boy, Wetin come happen now?
I gave no response. I gulped from my cup. I’m just here to socialize. Then I told him what just happened. We both laughed about it. Another friend of mine comes to say hello to me. Accompanying him are three mermaids. All lightskinned. Robust breasts. Asses so wide Thanos (the planet eater) wouldn’t hesitate to feast on them.
Bro! Long time no see. I don miss you. We fit join your table?
Another bulge. Johnny says yes before I do. The party has just begun. With the presence of these beauties I’d totally forgotten the mysterious lady. We are all dancing. This is ecstatic. The lady I’m dancing with is Lolade. She’s doing something to me with her butt. I cannot help but jerk uncontrollably. It’s more of sex than it is a dance.
The girls with the German juice…
The sex…dance intensifies. Ah. Bless you DJ. I distract myself so I don’t wet my pants. I look around the club. I love this place. This is where I come to socialize. This is where people come to bury their money. This is where women who peddle their bodies come for quick business. Champagne lights everywhere. Everyone is in a frenzied, euphoric state. There’s a wealthy man here, married with 4 kids, holding an adolescent by the waist and jabbering. These skinny legged girls will take all your money after rendering you useless in bed.
I’m just here to socialize.
I’m leaving for home in the morning. Lolade has clung to me. She asks if my bed is big enough. It’s soft also, I tell her. She laughs and tells me I’m naughty. Here comes another bulge.
Outside the club there’s an ongoing commotion. It’s typical of night clubs in Lagos. Somebody is always angry about something. Sometimes, I think it’s the effect of the alcohol. You have to purge it out of the system one way or the other. A guy brushes another guy’s shoulder unintentionally and it all goes south.
Why you go touch my yansh? Ehn?!
Wow. It’s the mysterious lady. There’s something different about her now. There’s been a transformation. She was more of Omotola inside the walls of the club. Now I’m seeing Gordons. In those same clothes. Wow. She’s exasperated. Her friends are trying to calm her down, but their efforts are futile.
Not everyone is here to socialize. Some, especially these wealthy men, are here to objectify women.
I flag down a cab. I try to negotiate with him. He’s inflated the fare because he believes I just stepped out of the club hence OBO (Omo Baba Olowo).
But his car doesn’t have AC.
Lolade suggests we take Uber. I have a promo on my account, she says.
The club is where I come to socialize.