GHAFLA EXPLORES: I Went To A Birthday Party Where Horny Couples Were Locking Lips In All Corners And Girls Were Smoking Weed Like Jamaican Natives
This past Saturday, I attended my friend Collo’s birthday party in Donholm. It was pure ratchet mayhem with a real sense of style. I grew up in Donholm so it was looking forward to partying in the hood where I evolved from toddler to man.
When I arrived at Collo’s place, he welcomed me with a bear hug. He has always been an amazing guy who walks and talks like a mafia boss. He has a sharp nose like that of Carlo Gambino. He has flair, sang-froid and he wears a suit superbly well by bulging his gym-built fame fiercely into it. I think he would make a great seducer but he has dated the same girl since campus. Good for him.
Anyways, hugged me, shook my arm with that firm luhya grip and started telling me jokes. He always believes that everything he says is funny. And that’s not the worst part. The worst part is that he laughs at his own jokes. But wait…that’s not even the worst part. The worst part Is that Collo doesn’t laugh like ordinary people do. His laugh takes over a room. It comes on just fine, a regular laugh by any standards. You will be laughing too. But then when the humor subsides, you will stop laughing. At this point however, Collo’s laugh will just be crescending. And he will be making eye contact with you. Ha Ha HA HA Heh Heh. And you will try to laugh again to join him because you know you’re supposed to. Because you don’t want to appear rude. But it doesn’t come out right because it’s not a natural laugh. He will squeeze out a couple of words sometimes between chuckles. And then he will stop as suddenly as he started, and you will be relieved.
But that’s just Collo
Moments later, his girlfriend Anita joined us. She held him with one hand and on the other, her fingers held on firmly to a blunt of weed. Judging from her eyes, she was already high.
“You wanna smoke?” she asked me
“No…I don’t smoke. But thanks Anita”. I humbly declined.
“it’s okay, but I have to steal Collo here for a second, “ she said as she dragged him away and into another room.
I had to look for people to interact with now since I didn’t kno much of the people who were there. As I took a stroll around Collo’s huge siting room, I noticed a hot skinny chic sitting alone and sipping vodka. Swiftly, I approached her.
My words were warming her soul pretty quickly until her fat boyfriend showed up from another room and began causing a fracas. The girl tried explaining to him that nothing serious was going on (even though something serious was going on) but he didn’t seem like a reasonable chap. Few seconds later, emotions were high, we were engaging in a furious exchange and people were salivating over every insult and titillating claim. To my surprise, he pulled me out of my sit and swung a punch towards me. Even though it came unexpected, i ducked. I don’t like fighting but I was almost forced to defend myself. Luckily though, Collo’s boys showed up quickly and dumped the guy out of the house.
The chic herself was confused, upset and incredibly embarrassed over her lover’s lewd conduct. Given the unfortunate turn of events, she insisted she on leaving the party too to go console her drama baby boyfriend.
My seduction, which began with great hopes was about to be inducted into the museum of great failures. There it was to sit alongside other failed projects such as the Nokia phone, Blankets & Wine and Nick Mutuma’s music career.
But I was Etemesi. I couldn’t just let my effort go to waste. I held her hand as she was walking away and asked for her number. She gave it to me and we are now planning a bang date behind her boyfriend’s back. I would have kept off her if her boyfriend hadn’t decided to go violent on me but now I have to bang her just to punish him
Anyway, since my crush was gone, I had to look for another girl to ‘katia’. I couldn’t spot any unoccupied and appealing female body. Almost everyone was coupled up. I have never seen so much kissing in one place. The single girls though were a turn off – smoking shisha and weed endlessly like their survival depended on it. Their noses looked like 18th century trains. Too much smoke.
As I continued scanning the house for potential targets, a drunk diva that was holding a half-filled glass approached me and put her arms around my shoulders.
“You are that guy haaaah” she shouted
I wasn’t impressed. She looked like a boozing, cursing, fishnet-stocking clad hooker,
“What guy?” i asked her
“The blogger….from Ghafla. Sijui Emetesi or Etemsi. Hebu wait I go pee I’ll be back.”
Just like that she disappeared
The next time I saw her, it was later on in the night. She was fighting with another girl over a male model who was in the building. She too was dumped out of the building faster than she would say “Ngoja!”.
I was now becoming frustrated. I wasn’t finding a decent girl to hook up with. Some, of course, were already in hidden corners (or elsewhere) and enjoying themselves with guys…their illicit moans and groans teasing the air before quickly being lost in the hubbub that came from the loud music.
Given that I pride myself on pushing boundaries and challenging convention, I once again went to hit on a classy looking chic. I tried to table my bang proposal to her while having tolerate the endless puffs of smoke from her cigarettes. She was responding well but when I asked her if we can get out of the place she said she was on her periods. She still gave me her number though and flashed that ‘call me’ sign
Aaargh. What a sad night for Etemesi. I gave up and went back home. I’ll live to fight another day. After all two numbers are better than nothing right?
