Is this Life?

I wrote this last year (before I even knew what blogging was) when I first started working for my company and was sent to Abuja for a meeting. I guess I had the blogging bug even then. Its funny to see the developments in my life since then. 'Him' is no more causing my blood to rise and I'd be happy to be sent to Abuja again. And yes..I'm shamelessly promoting my photoblog.

So I’m on the Ninth floor of the Nicon Noga Hilton Hotel, all alone and thinking to myself….is there no one I can call?!?!?!?! What in the worlllddd? Someone could be sharing this with me. All this idleness will make me call 'him' and I don't want to, but considering he is right there in Abuja...Get thee behind me.

I was enjoying the peace and quiet but now its getting too quiet. So I flip through all the channels available without pay and some strange African group is on channel O, Michael Jackson is on CNN, Bad Boys in on M-net, NTA is too loud and only God knows what forum is being talked about..something about the African Child..yawn. I take my last resort and call my colleague, he’s an okay guy...makes good conversation and all that. We meet on the ground floor and proceed to capital lounge where Don is performing Nigerian music live with one back up singer.. a slim girl on the mic behind him, one guitarist as well as a keyboard played and a drummer. Everyone else in the band is just kind of loafing around behind him…I wonder how they split the proceeds each night.

Don looks like he stepped out from the seventies without a fro. He is petite and has on tight flair pants and a shirt tucked in. He reminds me of the kids from That Seventies Show. He works his magic round the crowd, assuming every girl sitting next to a guy is actually with the guy so doing things like taking a guys hand and stroking the girl with it..u know what I mean. Some grimy looking girls are at the bar with their tops cut toooo low or a couple of sizes too small.
There are also several white men with some of these girls laughing too hard during the conversations and stroking them. Some of the white men could probably pass as my grandfathers and the girls as my younger sisters classmates. There were some cute ones too. I had actually seen a cute couple in the elevator and they had the cutest mixed race baby boy I had ever seen. Couples and babies..sigh.

At this point I’m trying very hard not to fit in with the 'sexy' females. Don comes over to my chair and looks at my colleague and puts his arm around me… I plaster a smile on my face. Don concludes his act with a series of goodnight…night good, au revoir, revoir au, see you..you see, dankershen, shen danker, and the final included a swear word which I the girls at the bar excitedly screamed back, in reverse of course.

So I say goodnight to with my colleague and proceed to the elevator. Some dude is in it. He’s prb 5’4, looks like he is from the eastern part of Nigeria and looks about 40. I’m not sure he if actually looks at my face, more like he scrutinizes my body and asks it .."So what’s your name"?I reluctantly answer since he is really not addressing me.
"Are you in town for the weekend?’ he asks the body….
I reply, ‘no I’m actually checking out in the morning",
"But why nowww, can I change your mind?" he asks
I’m flabbergasted as my body is being visually assaulted.
"Er no, sorry, I have to get back to work in lagos".
He persists, "Maybe you can come for drinks with me, I’m on the 10th floor", emphasis on the 10th floor where the more expensive rooms are.
"I’m so sorry, I have to be up early so I can’t stay up much later"..
"The night is young", he says…and you are not, I think to myself.
"Okay please give me your number". I promise him that if he gives me his card,
I’ll contact him…Maybe when we get to heaven