I would rather be caught butt naked, literally, in my house the whole weekend than go out shopping or have fun. My kind of fun is a clean house, enough nibbles and a good book or movie topped up with endless sessions of sleep. There might be a little social media moment. If I have to sacrifice all this bliss to attend a function invited by someone who is not a very close friend , then out rightly , I really need a human being presence or in dire urge to discuss football. Sometimes , it also feels good to be around a good number of cheeky young men swarmed by quite good pair of million dollar boobs and butts , waist fat straining hard against waist trainers , 6 inch heels being balanced on by what one would think are day old calves and that human being with more than five accents . If lucky enough you might spot fake Brazilian hair strands and hints of cellulite neatly tucked under stockings. There will be a handful super brains that will get one guessing whether these women were born or delivered (heard there is a difference) , with tailor made outfits that attracts every eye, even the bees feel their important yet flowery presence .
This most likely would be a barbecue party. At one table, would be this tipsy lad in his late 30s with a nice baritone engaging a group of four. They will all look quite engrossed in the Volkswagen failures talk or a Ducati prowess while in real sense, no skirt will go unnoticed. At some point, the natural beauty with the “illest” pair of denim pants will show up and replenish the drinks. I will continue digging into my red meat while listening and keenly observing their eyes. It is a cheat day so the meat will be my greatest company even with the impending joint pains. Darn, I will have the meat, so soft and sumptuous then drown few painkillers later after a scalding shower .All will be well my feet.
It is football international break so one will be in a hurry to leave. At 7:00pm, the tipsy will be a little drunk and the music will be slightly over the top. To many of us, this is that suburb we work almost 14 days a week to afford. Though the sun will have gone down, the heat will suddenly rise and swimming costumes forked out of those tiny clutch bags. How now?? How can so much fit into such small thing! Plus who sent the bikini memo? I never got one, not even from B who looked at me with her big begging eyes to be her date while right now, and she might have already won her 2nd 50m backstroke! It is sad, right? She just wanted help to balance on her heels to this place. I however got the meat without someone reminding me of the pain later on, so I guess it’s a truce. The aqua phobic in me comes out full fledge, the running nose is inevitable. I huddle my freshly replenished plate of meat and the third can of energy drink (NEVER advisable) and move closer to the fire. My jacket is zipped up and that is how the cookie crumbles; I lose the boob game battle, which I thought of all the games, has a chance of being ranked top ten. I mean, it’s time to dress down and here I am adding more clothes on. I give up and join some of the guys enjoying the sight from a distance.
The woman in me will notice the cup A and D, the stretch marks and cellulite. I will separate real human hair ( tihihihi!) from fake one ;both will be from the same vendor at river road . Woe unto the tattoo guy who won’t let me confirm real eyebrows on the fleek. I will sit there and imagine what some use to scrub their ample derrière. They are supposed to be darker than the rest of the body, right ? But these ladies have it all same skin tone as the rest of the bodies except the face. Because I do not know how, another heavenly piece in my mouth and I will suddenly spot Zoey, trying to race against none other than host .When my parents almost fought because they couldn’t settle on Shaniqua or Heather (these names feature on the worst female name lists 😏 ) , her parents had already settled on Zoey. I look closely and realize how perfect she looks and I imagine the last time I worked out. It breaks my heart and I comfort myself with another piece of meat .I try to look at all others and thankfully I notice that we women are so different. Even the perfect one has this funny knees ( lol) .
At 9:00 pm I am so tired of eating (you can’t blame me, blame where I come from) and I will walk around the pool imagining myself at the deep end. That quickly fades too. Almost everyone is singing at the top of their voice, some music I can’t even identify the genre.
Luckily I am not alone. Three more are experiencing “ I can’t fit in this kind of party “ syndrome too . Maybe because we fear swimming pools so much; we carry so many bad memories of water masses. We just can bear the fact that people can stay under water for more than a second. Noooooo! For another maybe it is because he lost his girlfriend at the first such kind of party he attended. The other I guess it is because he outgrew and for the last one, maybe his religious position doesn’t allow. We all have played our part by honoring the invites.
Lucky has it that someone is leaving; at least I can hitch a ride to CBD then to my lovely escape and warm bed. 12:45am, a few painkillers and hot shower later, It is time to re-watch Black Coffee Movie (I watch it at least once every week) . It is a beautiful night