OneJoblessBoy

The boy next door

Pool Parry

The party had been dubbed ‘wet and wild’!
“Wet and wild? Okay, don’t worry I will be there,” I promised.
Weeks of planning goes into my being present at this pool party.
I hear it’s going to be one in town.
I necessarily don’t know how to swim but I work out a lot in the following days.
If I can’t swim, I should at least reduce my pot-belly a bit before the day.
Being sexy never hurt anyone, so I order some sexy speedos.
I hope to seat at the edge of the pool and hold on firm to anything so I don’t get pushed in.

The D-day arrives, I wear my speedos and then a combat short over it.
I grab a t-shirt with some beautiful inscription, put it on and then, I head over to the venue of the pool party.
When I arrive, I meet the shock of my life.
People are all seated and eating all sorts. Some combining sweatshirts with denims and elaborate sneakers.
I even saw a few ladies in long dinner gowns, sitting all pretty.

I choose to remain hopeful. “Maybe they would go change into something more appropriate for the occasion later,” I think around.
For the next 25 minutes, the pool remains empty but for the floating balloons in it.
I call one of the waitresses and I ask her a simple but heartfelt question.
“I was told it was going to be wet and wild. Is this it?”
She smiles and retraces her steps. Of course, I don’t know what her smile means but I don’t want to probe further before my intentions get misconstrued.

Make e for no loss, I grab a piece of chicken and a glass of red wine.
I realize I won’t be having the opportunity to show off my speedos or my slightly trimmed tummy, so I act like the Romans since I find myself in Rome.
I load my tummy with more chicken as I attempt to return it to its original size. All these time, I’m armed with my phone as I chat away with Jane, Nne and other all the other babes on my Whatsapp list.

I learnt the hard way that pool parties aren’t what I really thought they were.
I understood that just being around the pool was enough for most pool-party goers.
Either Nigerians don’t know how to swim or they just love acting arrogant.
Maybe they just love to eat and chat on their phones till it’s time to go back home.
This wasn’t wild and wet. It was tamed and dusty!

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