The Failed Night Out

It's been a really long time since I've been out at night and by that I don't mean dinner; I mean out to a bar or lounge. Returning home with hair extensions infused with cigarette smoke is just not the kick it was at 24 (and even then, come to think of it, it wasn't). Now, I tend to do movies and maybe dinner and be back home by 11 WHEN I go out.

Determined not to settle into early retirement before I even hit my forties, I try to shake things up a little and get out every now and again. Tonight was one such night. The first problem upon deciding that I wanted to go out was where to go to. The first option to go to a karaoke bar was suggested by my sister.

I was very doubtful.

She maintained that it would be fun.

- But I can't sing, I countered (a very important and lucid argument for not going, in my mind).

- Well, neither can I!

So, that kind of settled it. Karaoking singing we would go.

That is until she and her friend got there and called me to saying that the place "Was not happening."

Okay, so where was then?

She promised to call me back after a quick consultation with her friends. She called back 4 minutes later with no clearer suggestion than to see where the mood would take them.

That really didn't work for me, so I decided to meet up with my friend at Newscafe. I hadn't been there in a while, but figured that it was a safe enough bet.

Ahem. Was I wrong! The place was a far cry from the hot spot I remembered. Then I realised that I hadn't been there at night in about a year! OMG! Well, in Lagos a place that was the place to be a year ago is not guaranteed to maintain that record a year later (unless, of course, it's Bacchus).

The Newscafe I remember was abuzz with people, cars, music and energy; all of which were glaringly lacking tonight. Within minutes we decided to leave for Posh Cafe.

On getting there, my sister stopped and pronounced that the place "Looked dead."

The sign outside the Mega Plaza car park had declared a fee of "N200 per park." Determined that "my park" would be optimised as much as possible, I firmly marched in ignoring the virtually empty space. Comfortably ensconced in the chairs, we ordered our drinks and waited for the enjoyment to begin. And we waited. And waited...

My sister and her friend decided to throw in the towel and go home. I decided to stay and enjoy my, ahem, hot chocolate. As more patrons left and others stood outside, survey the joint and decide against coming in, my friend D and I confessed how out of the loop we felt.

Where WAS everyone? There was some memo that I obviously didn't get.

Determined that the next evening out would be much more fun, we vowed that next time we would "do our homework, ask around, know the place du jour, etc.

We ended up in the open-air food court on the ground level for a late-night meal of suya, which was probably the most fun part of the evening. There's nothing like the night that never was to make you feel like you just need to give it all up now. But perhaps, I also need to realise that my ideas about fun have really changed over time and embrace this realisation with wild abandon.