Disgruntled

So a while ago i'd left a client's late and needed alcohol like an african leader needs impossible amounts of cash and unlimited power.i got to the city and jumped into the first bar i saw. i think i've been in this bar a total of two times and both times were the day it was opened and the day after, after which i realized it is basically a hang out joint for individuals under the age of twelve.

checking in, i see two violent-looking men dressed in tiny little handkerchiefs and bras. i contemplated that for all of two seconds, dismissed it and pulled a bar stool. i ordered a super cold drink and took a long, refreshing swallow. my wits distractedly sauntered back about me. then it hit me...

where the bleeding blazes am i having a drink?!? did i just see two men purporting to be stripper chicks in scant attire attempting to look sexy? ah well, fuck it.. i'll inhale this beer and be on my... hold on.. i spotted a really fly mama sitting far away in the corner. with her fly friend.. shortly she gets up and comes over to me, 'hi, i know u don't remember me but i remember you'... in my head i'm like how in the hell can i forget a mama this fly? clearly, from the blank look on my face, she inferred that she was right. 'remember some day you were walking in westi then you met nani, and you checked in, we were doing a video and.....' that light with angels singing in the background. if anything, she was looking flyer than she was looking then. and she was looking quite fly then... 'you want to join us?' mos def.

drinks, nonsense conversation, the two oboho mamas get onto the makeshift stage and start nut cracking with their asses, while discussing the advantages of kimbo over cowboy. bent over, asses facing the crowd and ass muscles relaxing and contracting with purpose.

i have never ever seen anything so decidedly unsexy in my entire life.

more drinks, more nonsense conversation, more nut cracking asses. the night wears on, the crowd slowly disperses..

my two tumi-chicks say they're going to the loo. i'm like sure, lakini chop chop, time's a-gone. porridge's cold.

ten minutes pass. then twenty.

the staff begin cleaning out the place. putting chairs on tables and shit. my beautiful ladies are nowhere to be observed.

some concerned bouncer walks over tapping his wrist in that universal gesture of get-the-fuck-out-i-live-somewhere-dangerous-and-i-need-to-go-now. 'i'm just chilling for my lady friends and i'm out of here'. 'where they at?','loos','they've been gone awfully long then, haven't they','uh, yeah','i'll be right back'. this conversation of course, takes place in the most interior of shengs.

he strides off towards the loos. jaw set. arms clenched. business. i shrug and empty my bottle.

shortly, he walks back.. alone. with a lost-at-sea look on his face. 'ai, boss...' i look up expectantly. 'i checked into that loo and found only one cubicle occupied.' 'really?'. this sounded vaguely interesting..'yeah.. and the sounds coming out of that loo...' he pauses, with a faraway look on his face. shakes his head and walks away, flabberwhelmed.

two minutes later, the ladies come out.. avoiding eye contact. 'tisk, this chick has had waay too much alcohol, she was throwing up all over the place.' 'right, yes well, we better be leaving.' her jungu chick pal checks in. my pal is like, si we go to the club? we could party and then.. you know..' three pairs of meaningful eyes look at me. although one pair meant to do me grievous bodily harm. the jungi. i think i was putting spanners into works.

i had to go.

office work tomorrow, i need my beauty sleep, its late, my porridge's cold, yada yada fishcake... and jumped into the nearest cab.