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Where we left off last week…

Herh, are you retrieving a phone or attending a drink-up? You are not wearing that” I said more out of hope than insistence

“Watch me” he said comically, then waltzed out the room like some front-teeth-missing kid modeling in his father’s tuxedo.

I’d never seen him like that. Sam, my Van Lutheran Sam. Rational, comported, razor-sharp intellect, good looking, tough-to-impress childhood buddy, putting up a circus for some level 200 girl, I couldn’t wait to see her.

If I’d known the kind of complications seeing her would have brought, I would not have been eager to, at all.

The Pool Escapade

As it turned out, I had to wait, for two full months to see Ginny. Something always came up. First, the inter-university sports competition that took me to Abuja for a fortnight. Then she was ill when I returned, and Sam was a worried wreck. Eventually, I resigned to a state of indifference. Secretly, I was worried that I might be disappointed when I saw her. Sam had hyped her so much that she had to smell of heaven from a mile off to fit the profile.

Two Saturdays before the end-of-sem exams started, Sam asked if I’ll be at the university’s Olympic-size pool that weekend. He was going to feature, and that was something because though he was a good swimmer, he hardly went with me, there was always something else to do. Something more pressing, something Ginny.

“Ginny wants to learn” he said

“Aha, explains it!”

He was to pick her up from the Pentagon hostel, so I’d meet them both at the pool. When I got there, it was half past mid-day, the sun was flying high and the water was clear, beautiful, and lascivious (Author’s note: yeeyy!! I finally get to use my new vocabulary.lol).

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The story you’re about to read has attracted as much public interest  as the current UK riots, which have driven some African Heads of State to make the ludicrous offer of repatriating their citizens to a safer homeland, lol.

The truth is, if you hadn’t kept calling and writing to demand the promised sequel, this would still have been trapped in my mind. So here goes the sequel to the story of how two best friends came to love one girl.

If you don’t enjoy this story, you won’t be alone, there’re many more Marsians amongst us earthlings

Where we left off…

The thing with having an uncountable number of girls on your score sheet is that in time, it gets boring. Trust me, all the lingering pleasure and ego boosts that comes from being a ladies’ man is very much temporal. At a point, it becomes routine, and the awareness that you’re a twenty-something year old guy walking around with an SSS graduate’s mindset kicks in hard. So hard you could get sucked in self-pity and disappointment about how wasted your life looks in retrospect. My kick-in came in at the worst time possible, the time Sam met Ginny. And this is where the story really begins…

A few weeks before Sam met Ginny, I’d gotten to a point where I wasn’t looking forward to when the next batch of freshers were arriving so I could make my pick. I wasn’t eager to pick the numerous calls that came through every day from girls of so many different nationalities that we could have formed some perverted kind of UN general ASSembly. Slowly and subtly, I began resenting that kind of life. I was the victim, the man whore, the gigolo, the booty call. All my friends had found meaningful relationships. One day Bob (another good friend of mine) told me Ajoa –his babe- spent the night in his room. The whole night they stayed up talking, TALKING!!! Some time back I’ll have teased and laughed, but that day, I wept within. It was clear that at the end of the day I had countless sex mates, but no one to go back home to, and that my friend, is a very sad conclusion to reach.

I was in our L 21 Legon Hall inner room watching a movie on my laptop when Sam entered wearing a smile broader than his shoulders and more colorful than a summer shirt. Ideally, he would have waited for me to get too curious to keep mute, then teased before letting the cat out of the bag, but not so this time. This time, he couldn’t wait, he just spilled it.

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