Mr. Nice Guy

"We all are familiar with the August Rush, In UI’s case, it was the February Rush. This is the moment it finally dawns on us, we that were freshmen in the previous session, that we had become “Stalites”. No one had the right to call us “bloody freshers” anymore. We that were once baptised now had the right to “baptise”. We now had the right to call others “bloody freshers”. We that once took cabs from Queens to Kuti will now laugh at the new freshmen and call them stupid when they lament on their naiveté and recount their own cab stories. We that were once lost in the big extensive walls of this University will now intentionally direct people to Tech when then ask for directions to CBN. 

But I, anxious as ever, looked forward to none of this perks of being a sophomore, the only perk I looked forward to was the “Catch them young” process.  Pardon me, I never fully understood the “catch them young” phenomenon, I never knew it existed (Hard to believe but true and Yes, I’m a geek). This was why I was particularly excited when it was explained to me. I’m sure most of you reading this understand “catch them young” thingy but for those like my former self that don’t, I’ll explain. “Catch them young” is when the stalites in the school become eagle-eyed and seek to pick out and “use” the finest freshman girls that exist. It’s a tricky process as it must be done just before the girls make enough friends or even find their feet in the University.   So, I in all my excitement resumed early in hopes to “catch them young” and trust me I did. For the sake of this article, we would call her Sophie. 

Sophie was a Lagos babe, light skinned and medium in the right places (*wink). She had a meek tiny voice, it was always almost a struggle to make out what she said and she lived at Elegushi (oh foolish me, I should have suspected then). I ushered Sophie into the University of Ibadan, and often went to see her at her hall. Then, I started taking her to all the night hotspots in school, and surprisingly she offered to pay everywhere we went to and refused to take no for an answer (Again, I should have suspected that something was up). Eventually, I would pay after about fifteen minutes of debating and convincing her that I should pay. There was this time at Jay’s , we had ordered and Sophie already had her ATM out and ready to pay even faster than the rate at which Olamide’s songs blow up. After the usual convincing and debate, she eventually agreed to let me pay.  And just before, I could input my pin, five of her friends sprung up from nowhere like ninjas and placed orders, and as a bad guy, I paid for them too. I could not fall my own hand na. After all that, even one single kiss, I did not get from Sophie ( this is not something like a joking stuvv). So, the ice breaker was a Friday night. It was one of those Friday nights when you knew you would eventually get laid (Yes. I said eventually because I’m a virgin). I had called Sophie on Thursday night to make plans with her. I offered to take her to a nightclub (name withheld) and she agreed, a feeble yes. 

So here I was, in the club with my boys, and a couple of chilled vodkas and cranberry juice. All was well with the universe until I called Sophie to tell her that I was waiting for her at the club. Her reply was that she was in Lagos. I told her to quit playing. She weakly said she wasn’t, that she had transferred to Unilag, they offered a “better” course. I was sure that the cell reception was bad, I informed her about it and offered to call her right back. She turned my offer down and hung up. I called back but her phone was switched off.  

So here I was, in the club with my boys (did I forget to mention that they were all broke?) and a couple of chilled bank-account-draining vodkas and an annoyingly overpriced cranberry juice (Even I that had never been to a club before knew it was overpriced). I sunk into the chair (-surprisingly comfortable-) thinking about the garri I was going to soak for the next three weeks when a “lady of the night” approached me. She was barely clothed, her cleavage carefully revealed like market goods on display and she slowly moved, ensuring the gentle swaying of her hips ensnared one. She came on friendly at first, asking why I was sad, then I explained. She offered to help me “relax”, I whispered a limp yes. Then she showed me a couple of her skills (Miley Cyrus’ favourite activity) then she asked to me to pay, (once bitten…) I told her I had no money. She vanished as fast as Dija’s last single.  It’s Sunday morning, and I step into church for the first time this semester, hoping God would somehow make my father have a change of heart and send my allowance three weeks early. And just at the entrance, a friendly smile is flashed at me by the ushers, the usual fake serenading. But this face was too familiar, it was our favourite lady of the night. So I am in church currently, typing this, not sure if I should approach her after service, or blackmail her or just go back to my room and add water to the swollen garri on my table and eat drink my lunch in peace."

LOL, this is the first article we’re getting from our readers (remember, you can send your articles to uistoriesthattouch@yahoo.com). Let’s take this opportunity to remind you to drop your comments below, we haven’t been getting any. Thanks!