StoryTime: A Party To Remember

So I wanted to try something new today. I thought it would be interesting to dedicate my Friday posts to a little segment I would like to call Story Time. This would be a section of my blog where I would relate the most random of experiences, both funny and otherwise, fictional or realistic. Part of the fun for you as a reader would be to decide, at the end of each story, whether it’s the truth or an elaborate lie.

DISCLAIMER: CHARACTER NAMES AND PLACES MAY BE ALTERED FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS SEGMENT. ANY SIMITLARITIES BETWEEN SAID CHARACTERS AND REAL LIFE INDIVIDUALS ARE COMPLETELY COINCEDENTAL.

That being said, Let’s Begin!

As warranted, It started with what I had assumed to be an average party. It’s very important for one to decipher their motive as to why they and/or their friends are going to a party. There are various plausible reasons: to get high, to meet new people or just basically to steal stuff from someone’s house without their knowledge. For me, my main motivator was food. The sweetest kind of rice is always Party Rice, ask anyone. I wasn’t really in the mood to go anywhere initially but my 2 partners in crime (Let’s call them Friend A & Friend B) decided otherwise. They said there was a really chill house party happening at an acquaintance’s place and they wanted to check it out. After repeatedly assuring me that there wouldn’t be a lot of people there and I could eat as much as I want, I slipped into some baggy jeans & a pair of loafers and we took off.

The first red flag I noticed was the music. Now normally, I’m not really a big fan of Naija beats, but they do get the job done and they keep everyone happy and excited. So I was expecting to hear the usual, wonderful tunes of Rema, Burna Boy or Wizkid at least as I drove down towards the venue………….CLASSICAL MUSIC…..THEY HAD CLASSICAL MUSIC ON MY GUY. I could even hear it from 2 streets down. Who the F blasts classical music at 7pm on a Friday night? Like I left the comfort of my bed, wasted my fuel, all to turn up & get my freak on listening to a piano quartet? And it’s not like the neighbors can complain. What exactly are they going to tell the police? ‘Help, come quick, some young ins are disrupting the peace by playing Bach?

But hey, nothing was going to deter me from my mission. So I parked my car and bravely made my way into the classical den with my cohorts. This is where I encountered my 2nd red flag: The Crowd. Keep in mind Friends A & B had sworn that this was going to be a low key chill session. So when I saw heels and bomber jackets, I mentally checked out. I had to keep craning my neck to talk to people because everyone was so bloody tall. And bougie! I didn’t come here to trade accents with you please, I came for my rice. I felt rather uncomfortable, who wouldn’t be? But it didn’t matter, for as long as I had my peeps, everything was going to be alrig……….where did they go? We were literally in the foyer for 2 mins. I had just turned my back on both of them and off they went, doing what they did best: Friend A flirting her way through the party and Friend B slowly rediscovering his alcoholic tendencies at the bar. My people never waste time.

At this point, I was running the risk of people mistaking me for a house help. So I made my way towards the kitchen, because logically that’s where the food would be. I was already mentally mapping out which sections of my plate would be reserved for different dishes as I glimpsed the buffet table from afar. From a distance, it was a deceptively, tantalizing 2 tier display. Upon closer inspection…….*sigh* When I say that I wanted to flip the entire table and burn it to ashes, please understand my rage. I was hungry and not in the right state of mind. Let me briefly touch on the main points of contigency:

  • Instead of Rice, they served Ukwa. Not even native soup (which I hate but would still understand), ONLY UKWA. (Strike 1)
  • NO MEAT OR FISH OF ANY KIND. AN ABOMINATION IN ITSELF! (Strike 2)
  • NO FRIED PLANTAIN. Instead, they had CABBAGE SOUP……Why? Just Why? (Strike 3)

Other minor offenses included and were not limited to:

  • They replaced Small Chops with Pitta Bread & Hummus (WHO THE F EATS HUMMUS AT A NIGERIAN PARTY?!)
  • They excluded Fruit Juice all together ( Yes, I know, I’m petty. I don’t care. I wanted my juice)

I get that recently times have been hard and the prices of things like rice have gone up. HOWEVER! LET PEOPLE KNOW IN ADVANCE IF THEY’RE COMING TO A RICE-LESS PARTY! SO THAT WE KNOW HOW TO ARRANGE OURSELVES! Indomie would have been just as nice! It’s cheap and tasty for Pete’s sake. Who is Ukwa going to help? Even our grandparents barely eat it! Anyway, long and short of it was, I bowed out like a graceful guest & bought chicken suya on the way home. We will always move.

So, what’s the verdict? Truth or Fiction?

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3 thoughts on “StoryTime: A Party To Remember

  1. Naya …I must say , you’ve great narration skills . I really enjoyed your story and could imagine what the whole segment looks like ……..
    (by the way while I wrote this comment I was just reading everything twice and thought if I ‘ve written some wrong stuffs but guess what ! I did it!!!!!!šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…šŸ˜…)

    Liked by 1 person

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