Art House

The Beer Story: Chapter 5

By Ibrahim Suleiman

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I call James and ask him to meet me at the bar because it is closer to his part of town than my place is. We arrive just as he gets there. When he walks in, he takes one look at me and I notice the titanic struggle to keep a straight face and not burst into laughter. He’s a junior colleague so I figure I can bully him. I say to him, “James, if you want your annual bonus this year, you better tell me exactly what happened last night. All of it.”

Poor chap swallowed and nodded in submission. Here’s what I gathered from all he said;

We had sealed a huge deal with the multi-national company after months of hardwork and sleepless nights so I decided to treat my team. I said we would go celebrate at that new restaurant/karaoke bar, get some drinks down and fool around with their karaoke for the laughs of it.

Lydia, James, Eno, George, Biola, Juwon and I excitedly dashed there at about seven pm and went through a few rounds of drinks while we got happier and noisier. We took turns singing, doing solos and duets when I suddenly complained about a serious ache in my right shoulder so Lydia gave me her keys and said she had painkillers in her glove-compartment. I took her keys, stepped out and came back 15 minutes later, barefoot and giggling like a tipsy teenage girl.

I started blabbing about a rhinoceros having two deejays in my head and talking about downloading the godfather soundtrack that night so I could play it at a friend’s baby’s dedication the next day.

At that point I got up on the karaoke stage and gave a performance of a lifetime (complete with sexy choreography) to Beyoncé’s single ladies which brought the house down.

Chai…see my life…

Anyways, I apparently got a call from a friend of mine asking me to come pick him up from a lady friend’s place. So i told the team I would be right back and dashed off, humming ‘…all my single ladies, all my single ladies…’

Of course I never returned, and all efforts to reach me proved abortive. So at the end of the night when they got outside, Lydia realised I had left with her dark blue Elantra and left my black Elantra behind. Worse, I had left with my own keys too. Eno had to give her a ride home while she complained bitterly about the fact that her antidepressant medication was in her glove compartment.
AHA!
Now THAT explains my hyperactivity and memory loss! I had mistakenly taken her prescription meds instead of the painkillers! The alcohol mixed with the medication put my mind into a crazy bend! Suddenly everything came flooding back into my memory banks. And I must tell you this, the shame wey catch me no be small thing.

From the ‘single ladies’ performance, to mixing up my car with Lydia’s (no wonder, it felt like the wheel was trying to hug me and the car smelled like lip-gloss), to running one of Zubair’s goats over (please don’t ask me why he has goats as pets), to sleeping for over 12 hours and missing Seye’s baby’s dedication and at the same time leaving his in-laws stranded at the airport and putting him at risk of having three-and-a-half year old yams and kolanuts returned to him. Then the fact that a manic Lydia was going to kill me on Monday and above all that, the rhinos in my head probably procreated after all that partying and now are planning to raise a family.

See wetin shayo don do me.

Anyways, my name is Ejiro, what’s YOUR beer story?

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