Suzy is a Floozy That A Nigerian Guy Will Never Marry

Floozy 300x297 Suzy is a Floozy That A Nigerian Guy Will Never Marry

So last weekend (not this one just past, the one before) was a mad one… You all know my diet has gone down the drain right? But I still got time to make it work so from now on I’m not gonna socialise till I’m Paris Hilton thin, then I’ll be able to afford all those extras pounds that I find so easy to put on.

So on Friday  “Jeem” was a bust. He said he wanted to meet but it wasn’t happening, so Ruth and I decided to go out but at the time she was braiding hair and so said she’d come around when she was done, which was meant to be around 10pm but she didn’t even get to me til past midnight… We drank Caiprinhas (I still got 3 bottles of Cachacha that I brought back from Brazil) til almost two and luckily my friend that lives nearby was around and offered to take us to Player’s Club, because I swear we were gonna walk. It looked close on the map but it would have been a trek and a half!

So he took us to that bloody Players Club and it wasn’t even open!!! Yet only the week before it was open so we were pissed and headed for Canning Town where we ended up in some Yardie/Portuguese club called Twilights. That place was weird. The upstairs was a Yardie type affair and downstairs was Portuguese. It was the same club but you had to pay two separate entrance fees. They must have seen us coming because the guy guarding the Portuguese door took £20 for the both of us. It was so DRRRRRRRRY in there… We tried to make it work but it just wasn’t happening. The music was crap and there was a grand total of about 15 people in this huge wide open space, so we just had to leave and try and claim our money back.

We got our refund as it turned out the guy on the door had stiffed us because it was meant to be £10 each for entrance to both or £5 each for entrance to one. We managed to get our £20 back and then pay £10 for us both to go to the Yardie place. It was better than the Portuguese because the music was better and there were more people but it was still BLOODY AWFUL! The place was like somewhere that only belongs in my nightmares. Bashment Queens skinning out all over the gaff and pot bellied old guys in suits. I am so not into reggae/ragga and rare groove and that is mostly what they played. So you know when they played some crunk at the end it felt like it was my birthday and I was being showered with presents.

After the place closed we hooked up with some of the security guards that took us to one after hours place…that was cool… We left there about 8 and ended up in Essex for “breakfast,” before heading to mine. The next day I was hurt from all the liquor and planned to sleep all day but then Tamara decides mid afternoon that she is bored in Birmingham and wants to come down to London as her friend’s friend was having a Barbeque… and so ensued another night of partying at a some barbeque in Grove Park.

It was a Nigerian affair and a few of the dudes were these fake American wannabees (down to slouch socks and house sandals eeeewwww! Some of them were awful) trying to stunt with their oversized clothing and jewllery… The host’s girl thought she was famous and insisted on dress changes during the night as if she were at the Grammy’s or something. My plan not to drink simply fell apart since the host was giving every third person bottles of pink champagne and brandy… There was so much free flowing alcohol. I noticed that even the elderly couple who were the host’s neigbours got through two bottles of champagne.

Patsie rolled up to the barbeque at around midnight. She walked in sober to a crowd of drunkards. She didn’t seem impressed. You know how it is when you arrive at a party that is in full swing; you can either join in and try and join the state that everybody else is in as quickly as possible or wonder why you are surrounded by a bunch of drunk idiots. I think in Patsie’s case it was the latter.

Soon after she arrived I went with Patsie to the petrol station to stock up on fags. I needed to get away from Tamara as a guy had just accidentally poured champagne over half my body and so I was wet and Tamara chooses that moment to ask me if her eyebrow was smudged. The look on my face, plus the look of my wet clothes should have told her that it was an inappropriate time for such a question, but that one can be totally clueless at times so she kept asking me over and over if her eyebrow was smudged like I gave a fuck, so I just had to get out of there.

Even though the petrol station was a 5 minute drive away we ended up lost and so spent 20 minutes looking for the place. On our return we people watched from the car. Patsie commented on the girls that would leave the party, go into one guys car for a few minutes and then leave (PLEASE NOTE: SUZY WAS NOT SEXIN THESE GUYS IN THE CAR!) and go back to the party only to be outside with another one a couple of minutes later. She called them Suzies,

“Look at all these Suzies”

“Who is Suzy?”

“She is,” she said pointing at a random girl.

“Oh do you know her?

“No, but she is Suzy too,” she said pointing at another random girl

“So who is Suzy?”

“Suzy is a floozy.”

I was cracking up. The brandy was making the whole thing much funnier that it probably was.

Then she started to explain the Suzy concept,

“Men (she meant Nigerian) will never marry Suzy.”

“Why not, what is wrong with Suzy?”

“Nothing is wrong with Suzy, but Suzy has options. They prefer to choose a wife who has no option but to sit at home and cook and bear children, which is why all these men that Suzy is hanging out with will have a plain wife at home that doesn’t go anywhere.”

“But Suzy might want a husband too.”

“Suzy can’t have a husband, not a Nigerian one anyway. Suzy doesn’t have time to look after her man, she is out partying… Look at this one…” She pointed to a guy that was with a Suzy, “He is married. I know him. He has a wife. He’s not leaving his wife for Suzy.”

“Does his wife know?”

“Probably, I don’t know, but the wife probably won’t mind anyway because at least he married her. As long as she can say that she has a husband so she won’t feel shamed or under pressure, even if he is sleeping with every Suzy in London.”

“It’s a shame… Suzy can’t have a husband.”

“These guys will never marry Suzy because they know if they piss her off, Suzy has too many options. She can come to a function like this to find a next mugu.”

And so that was how I found out who Suzy was… LOL

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