It’s party all the time!

I was awoken around midnight by my British cousin.  He and his friend were back from Lesotho but couldn’t reach any of the Africans where they were staying and wanted to know if they could crash where I was.  Again, am I surprised?

An hour or so later (and many attempts at giving directions in a deep sleep as well as having to walk out to the gate in my thin PJs in the below zero weather to assure the security guard I knew who these folks were), my cousin was safe with me.  He had drama to share, but I had my sleep to catch up on.  Drama can wait.

When daytime came we made plans to go pick up his friend (at the Africans) and “do something”.  Why did we go all the way there to have his friend let us know he wasn’t interested in leaving the home?  Oh yeah, because he was still roaming on his British number and wasn’t picking up calls.

We returned to my neck of the woods and watched the Serbia – Germany game in a local pub.  Oh-oh!  Germany loses to Serbia.  This means trouble for Ghana. I’m not happy. To top things off, there’s a funny itch in my throat.  That only means one thing. A COLD! Oh no!

After chilling for a bit at home, I find out from the guys that they are going to Montecasino.  I invite my British cousin, but they’ve just been summoned back to the Africans to pick up the other friend.  Actually, they were chastised for leaving him at home all day.  Say what?  Primadonna dude didn’t want to leave the house in the first place!  Anyway, I said enough, so enough with that.  I had British cousin drop me off at Montecasino.  They were going to get the third friend then return to Montecasino. 

There’s a party tonight.  A friend of a friend of a friend. You know the drill.  But I actually know the host of the party so I’m not technically crashing it.  But I invite my British cousin and his friends all the same. There’s bound to be lots of pretty girls.  That’s what guys are interested in, no?  As for me, I’m not sure I’ll get any sightseeing done there.  I also invite British cousin to spend the night where I’m staying.  That way, I can easily get to the Australia game tomorrow without any wahala.  Selfish, I know, but the accomodations where I am are more comfortable anyway for him. 

The party was enjoyable enough.  I was accused of being a wallflower. Whatever.  Why can guys chill leaning against the wall and not I?  I was enjoying myself in my own special way.  British cousin and his friend didn’t show up until the party was dying down and only to pick me up.  They saw that they had struck out and should have come earlier instead of trying to (unsuccessfully may I add) go to one club or another. They never learn!