The bar scene is something else, there are no rules, no carding, 24 hour alcohol policy, drinking in public, you name it. This of course means that us expats will stay out until the bar closes (5-6am), and then the heavyweights come out in the morning and eat street food (breakfast) and have more beers . The light weights….well…not so lucky.
I remember this one incident where this foreigner, I think German, who appeared to have just gotten out of a wedding, still wearing his tux, was passed out at the bar. The bar owner whom is a good friend of mine, asked Toye (my neighbor from Nigeria) to help wake him up, as the bar had closed. Well he shook him, yelled, did everything, the guy wouldn’t wake up, so my friend slaps the white out his teeth. hahahahaha oh yea he woke up, but the thing is, he was still in zombie mode. We help him outside and start asking him where he needs to go, HE HAS NO IDEA! This guy was so pissed he couldn’t remember his address, we didn’t want to just leave him passed out on the road in broad daylight either. Well then, maybe some more slaps will help, my boy starts giving him the smoothest slaps, front hands, back hands, slow mo, wind ups, all of kinds of creative slaps, this guy is literally standing there taking them – everyone is cracking up laughing. Then this french girl Chole, intervenes we think shes jumping in to stop it …nope. She jumps in *let me get some slaps in* now they are taking turns serving slaps, it looked like double dutch or some kind of tag team WWE. Me and my boy Ishmael are laughing so hard, tears came down. Eventually the guy starts feeling them as his cheeks begin to get rosy red lol. We yell WHERE ARE YOU GOING?????? He mumbles he has a flight at 9, he had only been there for a day to attend a wedding.
We throw him into a cab and tell the cab driver to drop him to the airport. That was the last we saw of Mr.Slaps.
random thought: I need me a traditional village girl. Tired of these bar hoodies.