I go party and some African chics do me Antenna!

This is the umpteenth time I've started writing a post on Facebook and then I realise this post is too long, I might as well put it in a blog post. And almost every single time, it's a true story. I love writing these types of blog posts. Citizen journalism lol. Original content ;-) This post is about women - juicy.

So, my MIT buddy Tawanda was in town visiting Accra while doing some work for McKinsey in Togo. I went out this past Saturday night to Monsoon (I'd never been there before) to meet him and saw my Odadee colleague Yaw too who's also at McKinsey. We had some good convos, I caught up with Tawanda, we talked "women". We disagreed on whether folks should talk to their exes. I maintained that I wouldn't want the situation whereby me and my ex (or anyone for that matter) were not on talking terms. Not me ze Mighty African. When I was leaving Monsoon to go meet my Stanford buddy Ken who was also in town, some dude asked me where I was "going out" tonight. No, I didn't have PartyCrewGh written on my forehead. I gave him a few options but we ended up chatting like for 30 good minutes on entrepreneurship in Ghana. He's UK based and is looking to settle in GH. Surely, he would join the @partycrewgh.

For those of my Party Crew GH friends whose numbers I could remember, I called them to see whatsapp. Since I couldn't whatsapp them with my "canttakepicturesanddonthaveaearpiecejack" phone. They were sleeping or unavailable. So I headed to Niagara Plus Hotel to seek out Ken but apparently, he had checked out. Nah, I won't blame the dude who I chatted with for 30 minutes. Ken wasn't picking his calls either. But I did see this very hot chic at the hotel with her friends chatting. I think they were smoking 'shisha' but I can't confirm that now. (No, I wasn't high).That's maybe reason number one I didn't approach her. You'd think I'd learnt something from watching "Single Ladies" and "The Game". I had a feeling I would see her again sometime though. If we are meant to be (friends), we would meet again. (Yeah right!) African lady, you know that you drive me crazy!

I set out to go party. I hadn't danced azonto in a club for the longest time. After doing a hello and bye to Tavern (there was like one car parked there), I set out for The Republic. I saw Panji Anoff there, another buddy whose name I forget and then SliceBiz's William chilling with some white chic who I tried to guess which country she was from unsuccessfully. If you had heard her name, you'd think "Yankah" before you remember some Europeans look at "J" and see "Y". Why? I dunno. Anyway, after leaving Republic and getting fuel for my car (#vimride), some chic called Sarah I met recommended I go check out Duplex. I obliged.

After an hour or so there, I saw this "very hot chic" come in. Yea, the one at Niagara Plus. I made it known to her that I saw her earlier and asked for her name. "Tell me your name..... maybe your number, I go chase call ya, I don't want no drama". She said she was called "Haile" or "Helen" or something like that. She didn't look Ghanaian (I hate saying things like this but hey, people tell me that sometimes too) so the name didn't register proper. It didn't have a Yankah-Janka type wing to it. Even if I switched to my Ethiopian alter-ego, I still wouldn't have grasped the name. That said, she could pass for Habesha. Goitom!

After doing some small talk, I asked her if I could buy her a drink cos she was the most beautiful chic (that I didn't know already) that I'd seen this weekend. She said she wanted a "Red Bull". I bought the Red Bull with the last money in my wallet -7 Cedis pɛpɛɛpɛ! In fact, things at Duplex are expensive. Red Bull costs cheaper at Farenheit. I'm not gonna say it cost more at Duplex cos there are many more White people there. I looked for the chic on the dance floor, in the VIP seating area, outside the club, and in the queue to the washrooms. I never saw the chic again. She do me Antenna!

I waited aaaa... I sat down chillaxing in one spot thinking she might come find me and take what was rightfully hers. It didn't happen. While sitting down waiting, I chatted up some chic seated next to me who was having a jolly good time with her friends. She said she was called Raina and she was from Niger. I should have told her the Black Stars gave the Nigerien team a beat down but it didn't come to mind. What, you think cos I wanted to be her friend, I wouldn't say something like that? I would papa! Raina lives in Accra now and is studying English. If you've met her before, get in touch with me pronto. I didn't get to dance with her. I did think about giving her the Red Bull though. But I held out hope for "this very hot chic".

Raina left to go outside and said she'd be back. I had taken pictures with her, yeap. She wasn't going to forget about me like that. But apparently, she did. She never came back. Her friend said she wasn't coming back. And she didn't have her contact. Some 'friend'. Raina owes me some pictures o! She better not go and flaunt it on Facebook cos this world is very small. I know people who know people. She could have been my very first friend who's a girl from Niger. I do know a Camerounian chic who spends a lot of time in Niger though. How I met this "Mboa chic" is material for another blog post.

So, I eventually decided I'd rather take the energy drink home than try give it to some chic. I didn't, I ended up giving it to the dude on the street who "helped" me pack my car. I should have asked her if he saw some "this very hot chic" leave the club earlier. But no shaking, I am gonna see the "very hot chic" again. And this time, the first thing I am doing is taking her number. She and Raina. :-)


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