31st December, 2011
Saturday
23:53
I turned the radio up but not all the way, and nah, the time of the night had nothin’ to do wit my reluctance to crank that mother up. Nobody in the neighborhood would mind if I’d maxed out the volume and brought the roof down. Why? ‘Cause the whole freakin’ city was in celebratory mood, it was New Year’s Eve (NYE), baby and everybody was eager to ring the New Year in style.
Different kinds of fireworks were goin’ off wit boomin’ sounds that would knock a dent in any decibel meter , wit’ an atmosphere like that, turnin’ the radio up would have been like a baby’s cry competin’ wit’ the roar of a Mac Truck.
1st January, 2012
Sunday
00:05
Jus before the old year died a natural death, heaven’s vault opened up and 2012 was brought in wit a down pour. Wit’ my ass posted up nicely in bed and that sweet lullaby effect of the rain on the roof, I dove head long into the cyber space and was enjoyin’ the new born wit me, myself and but alas, the telephone company did their thing (again, like they did on Christmas day), the network was snuffed out.
Round 01:00
I tossed and turned and thought about what I’ll bring to the year two thousand and twelve (no use contemplatin’ what the year would bring ‘cause it’ll bring what it’ll bring). And nope, I didn’t jus’ think about the serious stuffs, I thought about the-you-know-whats and those thoughts inspired a lil’ growth in my drawers. Lol!
Sometime around 1 AM, my lids got too heavy and I slipped into temporary death.
19:05
I’d gone out to the pub to watch the game between Sunderland and Man. City and I was feelin’ hella good cause my mustard-sized hope wasn’t misplaced, City lost the game in the most painful way…the mutherfuckers conceded an extra time goal! I was happy, jus like all Man. United fans were, we were level on top of the league.
I’d planned on stayin’ longer at the pub but I was rockin’ my favorite short (truth be told, that was my only short) and the ‘quitoes (that’s mosquitoes to you) wouldn’t let me be, so I took my ass outta there.
See, I do a lot of reflection when am walkin’ (and when am in the loo gettin’ my shit on), and so it was as I was walked home, my mind snap back to another New Year’s Day some years back.
1st January 2003
Wednesday
17:30
Guess what I was wearin’ on the first of January back in ‘03? Yep, you already guessed it, somethin’ very similar to what I wore on the first day of this year.
There’s always that one shirt that we love so much, that one get-on that makes us feel like part-time rock stars, right? When all else fail, there’s always that one shirt/dress we love to rock.
Tees have always been my thin and you can blame that on the good captain (my pops) for puttin’ my ass up on that. I love t-shirts a lot and the one I was sportin’ that day (January 1, ‘03) was my fav at the time.
Posted in front of the extra large white T was a big sepia image of the back of a cowboy hunkerin’ down beside a steed and below this was the inscription “Behind the Chute”, hangin’ on my ass a black baggy Wrangler short and a pair of white Adidas flat soled sneakers completed the ensemble.
What! I was so fresh; Beyonce woulda put me in her “baby boy” video if she knew about me back then.
Huh, does she know about me now?
Um, No comment, sir! Lol!
Anyways, I was fresh like a gift out the wrap and I was headed to a party organized to celebrate my friend’s mother’s birthday. The do was at their crib and it was in full swing wit’ loud music seethin’ from speakers by the time I, the original party starter, the fire-ball of the party got there!
How could they do that to me? Such disrespect! The truth is, nobody knew me except my boy (Shola) who invited me.lol
Shola introduced me to the birthday girl (his momma) and some other guys from the fam, before hookin’ me up wit my own VIP seat, a special table and chair jus for me.
It gets lonely at the VIP when you’re ballin’ all by yourself, you know? Ah ha, thought I’d toss that in there to make some of y’all who’ve never been in the VIP green wit’ envy. Lmao!
Now, what’s a VIP without all the exquisite stuffs, huh? Y’all know that the Hennessey’s, Moet, Chardonnays and of course, the pretty women gotta be up in the mix to make a VIP spot hot, right? Problems is, I wasn’t into booze (and my homie knew that) and I was alone at the table but guess what? All that changed 30 minutes later, nigga brought food, all kinds of exotic juice and some brandy called Esplendido to the table and my spot really began to look like a VIP!
Up until that fateful day in January ‘03, I’d never heard of anythin’ called esplendido and I can assure you, I’ll remember that freakin’ brandy till the day my casket drops. Why, you ask?
Like I’ve always maintained, I don’t do booze (well, not really except you consider sippin’ on ciders boozin’) but then again, my boy put me up on a dare so I said, fuck it, bring the damn thing on. Besides, I wanted to find out what the fuss was all about for guys who made claims for gettin drunk and shit. I wanted to know why these niggas lose their minds and sometime, self respect jus to get brew-high.
So I got my drink on, mixin’ brandy and juice and fried chicken and though Shola would check in on a nigga at regular interval, I was still all by myself at the table. Well, I wasn’t completely honest when I said I was by myself cause I had them ‘quitoes wit me. Those annoyin’ little insects were feastin’ on my fresh legs (y’all remember I was puttin’ a short, right?)
Sometime durin’ the course of the evenin’, Shola brought some chick to the table to keep me company. Soon as we got introduced and I promptly forgot her name cause my ass was half past drunk but surprisingly, I was half conscious of the BS comin’ out my mouth. I and my new companion talked for what seemed to be forever or should I say, I talked or more accurately, the alcohol in me talked for what seemed be forever.
I remember Shola tellin’ me at some point to, “calm down, bro you’re shoutin’’
Considerin’ the loud music playin’, I musta really been screamin’ my lungs out for anybody to even notice that.
“Oh, am shouting?” I said whispering. Only problem wit my supposed whisper was, it wasn’t a whisper at all, it was a fuckin’ shout and Shola told me so!
All the while, the shortie I was coolin’ wit was laughin’ her teeth off (a nigga-you-drunk-typa-laugh) but I couldn’t be bothered cause I was all smiles myself, that goofy alcoholic smile most definitely found a temporary home on my face.
The only thing I remember from my convo wit the chick was her sayin’, “This is the twentieth time you’ve asked for my name”
22:00
It was gettin’ late, I told my boy I needed to skip but he said nah, that he wouldn’t let me go in the condition I was in. I insisted and got my drunken ass outta there.
January 2nd
Thursday
14:00
I woke up wit’ a numbin’ headache and an Oliver Twist sized hunger, my body ached and my mind didn’t belong to me. Before rushin’ to the kitchen to drink water and eat sum’, I went to the bathroom to splash water on my face.
I didn’t notice I was still in the same clothes I’d gone out in until I’d eaten, one look at myself and the memory of the night before hit me smack in the face, especially the part where I threw up the bus on my way home, my fav shirt and wrangler short were puke-stained! It was amazin’ how I didn’t fall off the bike that deposited me at my gate.
I nursed a 3 day hangover and the mosquito bites on my legs took longer to disappear.
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