Camille Who???

Michael steps out of the car after parking his car expertly outside the bar, it's the bar where he usually hangs out with his friends on weekends.

He steps out of the car after spotting Sola and Eben at their usual table in the v.i.p section exclusively reserved for them. He makes his way over to join him. He's in a better mood since he has rested well enough before going home to shower and get a change of clothes.

He reaches the table and pulls out a chair, exchanging pleasantries with his friends.

"Hi, guys."

"The man of the hour is here."

Eben pats his back jokingly.

"Man of the hour? What do you mean?"

Michael asks as he takes his seat.

"Don't mind him, Michael. You know Eben can be very dramatic. You do need to tell us how it went with you last night."

Sola says exchanging a wink with Eben.

Michael catches their exchange and shakes his head.

"You two have started again, I am not telling you anything at all. You already know I don't kiss and tell."

"I wonder if you can be more contradictory. Is it not the same you that shows us pictures of your adventures with those girls you bed? Don't even try to ruin our weekend. We have been dying for gists all day."

Sola shifts his chair closer to Michael who looks at him in amusement.

"Sola, calm down. I am sure he just needs a drink or two to loosen up. How can he just disappear on us, and not make up for it by giving us the juicy details."

Eben motions to the waiter to come and take Michael's order.

Michael rests his hands on the table and tells the waiter who is now at their table to get him water, to the puzzlement of his friends. The waiter returns, placing the water on the table and leaving their table free for their discussion to continue. He drinks his water in gulps and clears his throat.

"You see guys, what I am trying to say is I don't kiss and tell anymore. I don't even feel comfortable talking about last night. It ended badly this morning."

"How?"

His friends ask in unison.

"That girl I left with, it turns out I have met her before."

"So what? You have a problem with hitting it more than once?"

Sola asks incredulously looking towards Eben.

The latter keeps quiet paying rapt attention to Michael.

"That's not what I meant. I never hit it before. Thing is, the girl in question is a saucy restaurant owner that I once had an argument with. Imagine my surprise when we recognized each other this morning. I really hate her guts, she insulted me and we exchanged some words. Anyway, she left in anger."

He shrugs nonchalantly.

Eben nods his head in understanding.

"What then is the problem? She left and that's all. There are other fishes in the ocean. Don't tell me you are stuck up on her already. I never thought I would see the day when a broad could get to you like this."

"I also fail to see what the problem is. You had a good time with her I suppose. Move on and forget about her already. Eben was right, you do need a drink."

Sola declares.

"I don't need a think. I just feel like I treated her badly. The thought has been nagging at me all day. I even dreamt of her."

Michael takes another drink of his water looking at his friends for comments.

Sola and Eben look at each other before bursting out in laughter.

"It's not funny guys,"

Michael says in frustration.

"You have got to be kidding me. You dreamt of her? It's way too funny. Shake off all thoughts of her. She's just a random girl. She must have screwed your brains too well for you to be thinking about her this way. I can tell you for a fact that when a woman screws you well enough, you start thinking of her. Some men have been known to mistake sexual satisfaction for love in fact. Shake it off guy before you start thinking you are in love with her."

Eben advices, barely keeping his laughter in check.

"Since when do you care how a woman feels? You release their nudes all the time. Why should she be any different?'

Sola poses the question to Michael who is obviously deep in thought. Turning to Eben,

"Help me out here, Eben. Michael is acting strange."

"Seriously Michael, you gotta forget about her. I know just the right therapy for you. There's this girl I know that has been begging me to introduce her to you. She's very attractive and comely. I could call her right now to come and keep your company. I guarantee you would forget all about that girl you are thinking of before the day is over. If you see her boobs, I guarantee you woild propose taking her to the altar."

He laughs out loud at his own joke.

"You think so? I have never felt guilty about any girl the way I feel now."

"Eben, call the girl you are talking about for him. He just needs to get laid to clear his head up."

Sola chips in opening the bottle of beer in front of him.

"What do you say, Michael? Should I call her?"

Eben asks.

"Call her. No problem."

Michael responds half-heartedly.

Eben takes out his phone and begins to scroll through his contacts.

"Gimme a minute, boys. I need to make the call now."

He stands up from his seat and dials the number.

"Please make sure she comes along with two of her friends. I wouldn't want to be left hanging like last night."

Sola calls out to Eben who is already retreating to one side to make the call.

"Who left you hanging last night?"

Michael asks him.

"I was the only unlucky one last night. Eben went home with Foyinsade, Funmi refused to go home with me. I had to go home to my cold bed last night after dropping her home."

Michael chuckles exposing his set of perfect white teeth.

"You don't mean it. I thought the two of you were getting all cozy together."

"I thought so too until she flat out refused to spend the night with me. I was too pissed to collect her number for another time. I must have read the vibes between us wrong."

He shrugs and lights a cigarette. He puffs out the smoke and turns to question Eben who is already making his way back.

"What did she say? Is she coming with her friends?"

Eben takes his seat and also lights a cigarette from the pack Sola left on the table.

"Trust me, she's coming. I texted her the address already. She expects to get paid. I trust you have it covered, Michael."

He looks at Michael for a response.

"Sure, no problem,"

Michael responds.

"Pass me the cigarette and lighter please."

He motions with his hand to Eben. He joins them in also lighting up a cigarette and begins to loosen up after taking his first puff

"You sure you don't want anything to drink?"

Eben asks him again.

"No, I don't. I could really use some weed though. Any of you packing?"

He looks questioningly at them.

"Yeah, I am. I haven't rolled it though."

Eben says patting his pocket.

"Give it to Sola, let him roll a joint for us,"

Michael says authoritatively. His position as a rich politician's kid has made him an uncontested leader of the trio. They all came from wealth, but of course, Michael's Dad's own was at the top of the food chain.

Eben takes out the weed neatly wrapped in nylon with some well squeezed rolling papers, perfect for the occasion and hands it over to Sola.

Sola collects the weed from him proceeding to unwrap it, straightening up one of the squeezed rolling papers and lacing it with the weed. With skillful fingers apparently used to doing just that, he rolls up the weed and starts to gum the rolling paper with his saliva.

"Easy on the saliva, Sola. We don't plan to get high on your saliva."

Eben mutters impatiently.

Sola shakes his head, obviously used to episodes of Eben's impatience when it comes to weed.

"I have always told you, you need just the right amount of saliva to get the stuff properly glued together. Too little saliva and the rolling paper doesn't stick well enough, too much and the weed is going to taste like it was soaked in water. So, patience my dear friend, am better at doing this than you."

"Whatever, just finish and hand it over," Eben mutters under his breath conceding within himself that occasion has always proved Sola to be the master at rolling the best joints.

Sola ignores him and takes the joint, twisting the butt where the smoke is going to pass through and cutting it off with his teeth to make the appropriate smoke exit angle. Nodding his head in contentment, he declared the joint fit for smoking. "That, my friends is how you get it done right. You should know better than to question me." He holds the joint up and hands it over to Michael who proceeds to light it up.

They all soon switch to triple T mode, (puff, puff, pass.) getting high on quality Nigerian weed, chatting

, and waiting for the girls to join them. All thoughts of Camille are temporarily shoved deep down inside Michael. Camille who? She ain't got nothing on a big fat blunt.