All in all it was a great night

Hola peeps. ¿Cualquier persona sabe dónde puedo comprar una chaqueta?

Hi, my name is Tunde and I am a shopaholic. Yup, just got in from the mall nearby my course venue. The original plan was to visit and see anything of interest, but I returned home with a suitcase. Well, at least I needed it. Most times I buy stuff I don’t require just ‘cos I feel obliged to whenever attendants ask if they’d be of help. Same way I bought my first high top sneakers. They were white and ugly but still copped them.

Man, I need help curbing my shopping bug. Dunno if it affects y’all the same way but there’s some crazy buzz I get from shopping. That new cloth/leather/shoe/suitcase smell just does something to me. Anyways ‘cos of this constant shopping thang I have developed a problem packing. I’m probably the only guy I know that over-packs. Yup, that’s a new word for y’all vocabularies. Even on a weekend trip I pack so many clothes and shoes, “u know just in case.” At the end of the day (or weekend) I end u not using half the things I pack.

So how y’all been? Aiight? Cool. Moi? Alles lekker. Just thot I’d use the lingo being in The Netherlands and all. The course is crazy hectic but plan to catch some sights – and avoid shopping – tomorrow. Actually apartment I’m leasing is close to the beach so first thang tomorrow morning, oops look at the time, let’s make that first thang when I get up, I’m gonna go jogging on the beach. It’s gonna be my Rocky III moment. Also gonna hire some folk to ride a bicycle – this being Holland and all – beside me while humming the Rocky theme song. Goodness knows I need the exercise after not jogging for a while. Had packed my sneakers so I’d jog at a park near crib in London. Did I? Bollocks. Now I gotta get back in the grind of things b4 Ab Fab transforms into Ab Flab. Already feel the love handles coming out. Quick, someone get me Nicolas Sarkozy’s press folk.

London was supposed to be…no wait, first gotta tell y’all about this ugly shirt I purchased. It’s a bright yellow short-sleeve shirt with a sunflower imprint on the back. Yeah, u can just imagine, right? Lol. So why did I buy it if I know it’s ugly? Dunno, guess just felt like a shirt no one in their right mind would have. And it’s expensive too. If u wanna buy an ugly pair of clothing make sure it’s real expensive so when u think of the amount u spent on it u have no choice but to wear it. I know it’s a twisted way to go about thangs, but I’m a fashion victim so what more can I say? This has always been the bane of my life. Reminds me of this shirt someone gave me a few years back. U know a shirt’s ugly when a total stranger comes up to u and says, “Man, that’s an ugly shirt.” Didn’t know whether to thank her or smack her; the stranger that is.

Yeah, London was supposed to be a week of vacation. U know some R&R after the stress of escaping from PH. Only R&R I got was on the plane from Nigeria to the UK and that from UK to The Netherlands. I’d visit the UK more often so I don’t get stretched as much. Only time I had to myself was when I went – yup, u guessed it – shopping! And even then I wasn’t totally at ease ‘cos had to crack my head about gifts to get the family. U know how I always harp on about how great it was growing up in a family of 12 kids? What I forgot to mention is how crappy it is when u fly outta the country and have to get them gifts. Now that majority of them are married I gotta cop gifts for their other halves, and their kids, as well. Oh, let’s not forget 3 moms and a dad, and then the drivers and helps at home. For the latter one can mostly get away with distributing cash gifts, but as some of the drivers have been with us since primary school a gift “from abroad” has to exchange hands. If u keeping count that’s already an extra suitcase of stuff just for the family. Hey, maybe that’s why I over-pack. I’m so used to filling up suitcases that when I am on ‘normal’ trips I can’t help but ensure suitcase is heavy. Yeah, yeah, that’s it; I blame my family for this bane of my existence.

It’s all good though ‘cos it means one’s gotta work hard in order to make extra bucks to take care of oneself and gifts to family. Reminds me of some girl I met who said her ex buys a brand new car every year and takes on loans in order to effect the purchase. Apparently the fact that he owes a bank bucks keeps him working crazy hard. To each his own.

So week in the UK went a li’l something like this……nah, lemme get some other news outta the way first.

PH news: Don’t have intimate details of the goings-on in PH, but know the security curfew’s still being enforced. Man, what a way to live. Wonder what those Nigerian bankers who profess to working crazy hours gonna do now? Maybe they’ll finally get off their butts and discover more efficient ways to go about thangs. Yeah, while we on the subject, how are those suya merchants making a living now?

Family news: Back in 2002 it didn’t dawn on me that my sis Nike was married ‘til I returned home after the wedding and realized she wasn’t around. With Kemi it was the moment when I screamed at some pregnant lady at the wedding; with Seyi it was when I saw her dancing with her husband. Now with Kinzo, it occurred to me that big bro’s saying goodbye to bachelorhood when I stopped at a shop in the UK to purchase some pocket squares. Yup, about time I started my own collection since it’d make no sense to drive to his crib on the Island whenever I gotta ‘coordinate’ b4 an outing.

Gonna miss hearing/exchanging tales of friends’ infidelity with him. Dude’s crazy funny and really gonna miss not having him a door away whenever I am in Lagos. I vaguely remember seeing a pic of his then girlfriend a few years ago, who wasn’t too photogenic, and teasing him about it. Dude waited almost a year ‘til he saw a pic of my girlfriend and said, “Woah, she looks old enough to be ur mother.” Fast-forward a few months to a party I hosted; Kinzo slid up to me and said, “Yellow, just met ur ex. I was wrong when I said she looks old enough to be ur mom; now I am thinking she looks old enough to be ur grandmother.” Lol…man, really gonna miss him.

Travel news: Finally. So here’s a brief rundown of what I got up to in London.

Zondag. Good ol’ Blighty. Feels good to be back. Missed u. Did u miss me? Glad to know the feeling’s mutual. While sauntering thru Heathrow Terminal 4 waiting on mate to arrive on another flight I walked into WHSmith and cracked a wry smile at the headlines on the front page of a tabloid newspaper. So British how the tabloid press can sniff out or create a scandal where there’s none. Think the headline was LEWd Hamilton or something along those lines. Yup, typically British as well to hype a sports star and then mow him down just as quickly. Man, I hadn’t realized how much I miss this place. Can just imagine Daniel Radcliffe getting caught with some cannabis and the headline Harry POTter splashed across a tabloid. Ha. U gotta love those Fleet Street guys. No where else in the world can one get away selling a daily with topless page 3 girls. Of the 3 main tabloids I reckon the worst is The Daily Star. Those folk don’t even try, at least The Sun and The Mirror try to make their headlines rhyme. If u illiterate and wanna learn English at a slow pace then The Daily Star’s the paper for u. Erm, if u illiterate I suppose u couldn’t have understood the last sentence anyways so why bother…

Arrived at the crib with two over-packed suitcases and asked Ayo’s girlfriend – yup, they back together – to cop some KFC on her way back home. Man, nada like some extra greasy, unhealthy chicken. Yummy. Guess anything woulda sufficed after the crappy airline food. Who does the catering on airplanes? That person should be forced to eat that food daily. Thank goodness I brought some chocolates along to the airport; else I’da wiped the crappily applied makeup off the air stewardess’s face.

Called all and sundry to inform them their fav person was in the house country and made arrangements to see them. Uh oh, some appointments are clashing. Oh well, things will resolve themselves.

Sis and family stopped by to say hello. Nephew’s 4 years old now and doesn’t remember me. Sob…sob…

Maandag. Plan was to go window shopping around the area yet shopped like crazy. Man, y’all should see this ugly ass shirt I copped. Searched for a store τ2 but heard they’d run outta bizness. Could it be ‘cos their fav client moved back to Nigeria? Ha.

Shall forever remember that place ‘cos bought the first shirt I fell in love with at that spot. Yup, u read that right, I used the ‘L’ word in describing a shirt. Peeps, y’all shoulda seen this shirt. It was a striped shirt with colours of the rainbow and…let’s just call it Tunde’s Amazing Technicolour Shirt. I remember working during that summer and would walk by that place every weekend glancing at the shirt ‘cos it was outta my price range. One fateful Saturday I walked into the store and realized shirt was on sale, 50% off. Woah. U’da seen how quickly I ran to the nearest ATM. After I bought the shirt I cancelled planned trips for the day and ran home to try on my new love. Man, what a feeling. Okay, maybe I’d save this story for my book, My First Love: A tale of love, devotion and the right washing machine settings.

Dinsdag. Planned to shop for suitcases, but ended up purchasing other stuff. Ran around frantically ‘til I obtained primo seats for the West End musical WICKED. Was ace seeing date again; still as fine as ever. Memories, memories. At the end of the night we both admitted our story would be the saddest Hollywood tearjerker ever. If a movie was made of us the tag line on the poster would read: Separated by continents yet they had the good sense to know it could never work out….or could it? Nah, it couldn’t. Ha.

WICKED was wickedly amazing. Sheer genius the way The Wizard Of Oz story was told from another angle. Too bad the male lead Fiero couldn’t dance to save his life.

Woensdag. Shopping. Met up with mates for drinks. Visited family friends and their mom handed me this fly gold plated sandals handcrafted in Pakistan. So chuffed they thot of me. Sandals would go great with ugly yellow shirt.

I remember going shopping with friends the summer after I arrived in the UK, and buying a nice Nike t-shirt from some nondescript store called Madhouse. A friend’s girlfriend who sees me traipsing down Regent Street with a Madhouse bag calls me aside, takes my t-shirt and puts it in a Harrods bag instead. This was done “so people would think u bought ur stuff at a prestigious store”. Like I give two. Anyways, before visiting family friends today I went searching for vests and boxer shorts and what I saw blew my mind. Peeps, when did Primark become fashionable?

Seems no one’s too posh for Primark now, what with a store on Oxford Street and all. Peeps, it was like a madhouse (Geddit? I wrote madhouse and store I mentioned earlier was called…oh, forget yous) in there. Went in for just boxer shorts yet it took 30 minutes ‘til I saw a cashier. I saw a lady force her kid into the queue while she went to get more of the same stuff already in her shopping basket, “but in different colors.” Guess peeps really like cheap stuff, huh?

Stopped by recently married mate’s crib and asked him how he feels being married for 3 months now. “O boy, no marry o. Since we’ve been married I can’t seem to locate any of my things. She’s been rearranging stuff and getting me confused in the process.”

Donderdag. Picked up nephew and plan was to take him shopping, but rained like crazy so after having some McD’s we went to see cuz Femi and family at his new crib at Gravesend. Yup, crap name for such a serene place.

So I pick up nephew at sister’s crib and dude chides me for not showing up as promised on Woensdag. Tell him the truth that his mom had arrived late the day before so couldn’t show up as planned. Hey, she’s his mom, what’s the worst he’d do? I, on the other hand, am his uncle so he’d decide not to talk to me for the entire day and that’d not be cool.

B4 we leave I toss him in the air, tickle him and blow on his belly button. “Ha ha ha ha. Uncle Tunde, do that again and don’t stop EVER!” It was then I knew I was in for trouble. Good trouble though.

As the day progressed my nephew and I bonded and realized dude’s just like me. His mom says he never takes anything seriously and even better, he doesn’t eat eggs just like his fav uncle. Awww. Hanging with him was the highlight of my trip to the UK. Everything he did, especially asking Why about EVERYTHING seemed axenic, somewhat magical to me. Uncle, why do u shave ur hair bald?….Uncle, I wanna shave my head bald…why do u say my mom would kill u if I did that?….Uncle, do u like the rain? How about the wind?…..Uncle, what’s this in ur ear? Why do u wear it? Do men wear earrings, thot just girls wore them….Uncle, I need to pee pee. I can’t wait man. Why is the toilet on the train so dirty?

I’d go on and on about the dude. Now I understand why parents bug random strangers with stories of their toddlers, or why they make them dance in order to “entertain” visitors. After hanging with nephew I just wanted to tell all and sundry how much fun I had with him.

Vrijdag. Went to aunt’s crib for lunch and as usual couldn’t move afterwards. She sure knows how to cater to my tummy. Afterwards went with Ayo to pick up shirts and ties for Kinzo’s groom’s train. Can’t believe I am not gonna make that wedding.

Caught a late movie, Rush Hour 3, with a friend and we both cracked up at opening scene. Kinda felt movie was a bit contrived though. Let’s hope there’s no Rush Hour 4. If so, what’s gonna happen to Chris Tucker’s movie career?

Zaterdag. Ain’t that special, been in London for 6 days now and weather’s been atrocious up until today, eve of departure. Where’s that extra-small t-shirt I copped on Monday? That’d be perfect way to show off my biceps while I do some last minute shopping for toiletries. Oops, almost forgot to get a mud mask for my weekly facials.

Hurried home, changed and met up with mates in SE London. Got in their ride and drove to pick up another mate. After some playful banter – hadn’t seen these guys in 3 years – we drove to Essex for a college buddy’s wedding. A bit touchy as one of the guys in the car dated her back in college and her husband had insisted he didn’t want any of her ex’s at the wedding. She eventually convinced him that dude’s still a friend nonetheless and would appreciate his presence at the wedding.

Now that I think of it maybe I was a li’l too blasé about the entire episode. Throughout the journey to the venue kept teasing dude about objecting at the wedding, u know Hollywood style. Then the bride would come running down the aisle into his arms and they’d both run outta the chapel and……like I said I’d have been more sensitive to folk’s feelings. I mean no matter how much one’s moved on one’s still gotta feel something when an ex-girlfriend one likes is getting hitched.

By the time we arrived at the wedding it was almost over, but was still great seeing the bride and groom and some other familiar faces from Bradford. Was looking forward to seeing an ex who’s now married with a kid – no, not THAT one – but heard she couldn’t make it due to other family commitments. Shame.

Zontag. Arrived home at 6.30am with li’l time to pack and head to airport for morning flight to Amsterdam. After the wedding last night we went clubbing and for the life of me can’t understand why it’s only in London one’s name gets put on the Guest List yet one still has to pay to get in. Why call it a friggin’ guest list then? Oh, but with the guest list u don’t have to queue up and u pay slightly below ‘normal price’ to get in. So? Back in the ATL if u wanted to avoid queues u paid a li’l extra and got in thru the VIP entrance. That said, it was aiight night after all said and done.

Man, London drained me. Soon as I boarded the plane I nodded off and it was only before arrival in Amsterdam I realized I hadn’t turned my cell phone off….and the plane didn’t crash. Who needs Mythbusters when u got Blackbuster as a mate.

I need to go now peeps. U see since I commenced this blog my waist down to the knees is caked in talcum powder - ‘cos I’m such a fashion victim I copped a pair of jeans back in London that are so tight around the crotch area I fear for life of my unborn kids. Didn’t try pants on b4 I bought them ‘cos was in a hurry doing one thang or the other. Anyways I’ve had to hide in cubicles to pee ‘cos no way I’m gonna be massaging my ass into a pair of jeans in front of urinals with other guys around. Must say I love the cut of the jeans though. Yup, that means I’ll wear them again after today. Any ideas of how to lubricate crotch and laps so they fit into jeans with less hassle next time? None? Maybe I’ll just go commando. Tot ziens and God bless.

PS
Oh just in case y’all were wondering I got all the females in mi familia – yes, sisters-in-laws too – perfumes. Couldn’t be bothered to shop around so got them the same brand. If u happen to stop by Kinzo’s wedding and all females in family smell the same then u know I’m responsible.