Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

man with locks 183x300 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

Saturday 27th October 2007
It started off with a kiddie’s party. My friend’s son’s first birthday.

“1 today!”

“Happy Birthday!”

baby11 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

baby2 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

While I was setting the tables up I started nibbling,



Mini chocolate sponge cakes

Chocolate rice krispy cakes

Ooooh remind me of coco pops… Turns the milk chocolatey…



Jelly babies

Somebody please put some sellotape over my mouth!

By the time the real food came I was bursting, but being the glutton that I am I managed to find room,

Curry goat


Potato Salad

Fried Fish

Green Salad

Jerk Chicken

Fried Chicken

Spring Rolls

Stuffed to the brim only liquid could seep through the condensed mass that had by now reached my throat,

Fizzy wine

Still white wine

Baileys Irish cream

I wanna throw up

I smoked a cigarette to burn the fat.

Ooooh what happened? It’s time to pack up. Bottles and bottles of fizzy drink, beer, fruit juices all untouched,

“Why the hell did you buy so much? Did you think you were feeding the 5 thousand?

Back at the house the gathering continued…

baby3 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

I was one of the last ones there at something to midnight.

“Auntie Zara you may as well stay the night.”

“I don’t have my headscarf”

You guys have made me ruin my diet… set me back about ONE WHOLE MONTH! So not only will I be a fat ass but I’ll be a fat ass with fucked up hair? Ahhhhh hellll na!

I left…

I was meant to go out with Al the last two weekends and both times I was the one to flop. This weekend was no exception. Stuffed like a Christmas turkey I just didn’t fancy going to a club, but at the same time I didn’t want to be a flop again. As he was meant to call at about 10 and didn’t I figured I could turn it around on him and make it like he was the one that was the flake.

I texted him,

“Oh having such a great time are we that you forgot about our outing? I’m tired now anyway.”

He replied quickly,

“I’m in Catford on my way home. Are you at home?

“Yeah I am at home about to go to bed.”

That was the last I heard of him. One nil to me! I had made him feel like I had been stood up and waiting so he would never know that I wasn’t really at home and would never know that I had stuffed myself to incapacitation. Right?

About 5 -10 minutes later (I still hadn’t reached home yet) Al called,

“So you’re at home right?”

“Yeah, I told you I was at home.”

I KNOW! I’m such a bold faced liar

He started snickering,

“So you are definitely at home?”


Suddenly the voice on the phone changed. Huh! I recognise this voice!


WHAT? It was Ruth! BUSTED! Al was actually at the house!

I didn’t even need to confess. I had been exposed.

After Al had got over my craftiness and deception we ended up going out at about half past one to a few local places. We pulled up to the first place to watch a guy getting knocked out and dropping to the floor. Then another guy came from nowhere to challenge one of the bouncers,

“You fucking prick! I’m gonna kill you.”

As this was all happening a girl staggered out in high heels and fell on the floor.

Too much commotion. Time to move on…

We found another place. It was D. E.A.D. A bottle of wine later we left this place as the atmosphere was putting us to sleep.

Back to the first place

It was way more vibrant in there

Another bottle of wine

baby4 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane



I must have been drunk because when I got home I discovered that I had about 20 pictures with this random guy on my camera. Al must have been drunk too for even thinking that this guy could have been my “type.” (as he later said to me) I must say in some of the photos I look quite “comfortable” with him, much to my horror!

baby5 Chasing A Rastaman Called Viviane

5 am and time to go home…

Oooooh another party right next door…

It was a private party but our luck was in and Al knew the guy on the door and the girl whose birthday it was.

The party must continue…

Oooh but the party was sooooo dry. An hour went pass and boredom set in. We had to leave….

Next stop bagel king…

Like I didn’t eat enough only a few hours previously

The alcohol had made me forget that I was ready to burst.

I was grateful that I wore a loose fitting top… To have been asked “when are you due?” Would have really pissed me off

Mmmmmmhhh… egg, bacon and mayo bagel…

Ooooops… I dropped some on the seat…

When I got home I stripped off, wrapped my hair and fell in the bed. I reached in the bag for my mobile phone. I always set the alarm, even on the weekends. I don’t even know why. It’s just habit.

No Phone… what the fuck?

I got out of bed and called Al using the house phone, hysterical,

“I can’t find my phone! Check the car!”

Al , after minimal looking.

“It’s not here. You must have it! Search properly.”

“I can’t believe this! I’ve only had the phone not even bloody 24 hours” (I haven’t had a mobile phone for a few months. It just got put on that Saturday)

“Call the phone and then I’ll see if I can hear it.”

I hung up the phone and dialled my number.




“Who is this?”

“You have my phone.”

“Yeah I just found it. Where did you lose it?”

I told him and then he started asking me some security questions like they do when you call the bank. Alcohol surging through my veins, I wanted to cuss him out, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH MY PHONE? THIEEEEEEEEEF!

I remained calm and when I had successfully answered his questions, he told me that he had locks, was called Vivianne and to come to the club where I had left it and pick it up.

The bed is calling me. I cannot move from this spot…

I told him that I wasn’t near there and in the end he gave me his phone number and address and it was agreed I could pick it up in the morning.

I called Al back,

“You’ll never guess what?”

“What took you so long?”

“A rastaman in Peckham with a woman’s name has my phone!

“Where did you leave it?

“In the last place.”

“Oh well at least you are getting it back.”

The next afternoon Al came with me to rescue the phone. I called Vivianne at 12 Noon to say that I was on my way. We must have asked about 30 different people for directions, despite me looking up the directions online beforehand. Each time we were told somewhere different to where we were.

Round and round…

We finally parked up somewhere and called Vivianne.

Straight to answering machine…

Panicking I called my phone.

No answer…

Vivianne you bloody bastard! I turned to AL,

“He’s stolen my phone. He’s given us a fake address.”

“Well he’s probably gone out. We’ve taken long enough. I wouldn’t wait all day for some random chick either!”

“I can’t believe this what are we gonna do?”

We decided that somehow someway we would find the place anyway and we did. Finally after pulling into an estate we found a man who actually let us follow his car and took us to the road. We felt sooooo stupid because we were right by the road the whole time and had driven past and round it countless times. We got there just after 3pm.

It was a block of flats. I got out of the car and pressed the buzzer.

No answer…

I waited a few minutes and as I was about to head back to the car I heard a voice,


“Hello I’ve come about the phone.”

He buzzed the buzzer for me to go up. I ploughed up to the third floor and as the door opened a waft of marijuana smoke washed over me. I saw his super long locks swing from behind the door before I actually saw him. He stood behind the door and held it open as if I should come in behind him. I stood there frozen on the spot.

I am not going inside that house.

He realised I was not going to enter and told me to hold the door. I stuck my hand out and kept the door ajar. He soon reappeared with my phone in hand, apologising for not bringing it down to where I was. I didn’t care. I was so happy to see my phone. He told me that the DJ had found it and handed it to him. I thanked him and left.

I relayed the story back to Al who told me,

“See you’re lucky you have the crappiest phone ever. If it was a decent phone you know he would have kept it.”

I was soooo happy to have my phone after such a close shave and remained happy until we went to go and eat the horriblest suya place in the history of mankind at Obalande Suya in Peckham.

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