I rarely do MC jobs; if ever, I prefer to do corporate compere. But when you receive a call from a politician, in this case a LGA chairman, to MC his Bachelor’s eve, would it be wise to reject it? The money was good and the possibility of meeting and networking with other LGA chairmen lingered in my mind. So I took the job.
I had two dilemmas.First, how do you MC a Bachelor’s eve? Second, the venue was to be at a club. Now, I have been a church boy practically all my life and so clubbing, drinking and smoking has never been my thing…not even a temptation. This is not because I am some saint but because of the oddity I presumed I would feel.
I arrived fairly early.You know, to have a feel of the place and be set. The time was for 7pm. I was thinking that, at most, by 10 am the party would be over.After all, these guys are suppose to be serious politicians, and also the proper wedding was for the following day.
The club rocked with the latest hits…the latest hits of PSQUARE’s Alingo, Kaycee’s Limpopo, Timaya’s SEXY LADY , Iyanya’s KUKERE. Later, the lights came on moving in through the hall in circular movements. I stood somewhere at the corner observing. How would this night pan out?
Then people began to troop in at say 8pm. Not the kind of people I was expecting. Some 8 ladies wearing what made them look more like prostitutes than fashionable ladies sauntered in with their high heels. I noticed one who chewed her gum rather loudly. Then the next bunch were a group of rascals(that is probably the best way I can describe them). They were loud and weird. I shifted on my seat.
More people kept streaming in.I was expecting some casually dressed politicians to show up, but I saw none. By 9am, the hall began to fill. I pride myself as one who is a very confident person, but I must confess ,at this moment, I began to feel the jitters. The audience was not my kind.
I was wearing a suit with a T-shirt and Chenos jean, but when I saw the kind of crowd, I removed my suit and flew my t-shirt. That would do, I guessed.
The music still rocked. I walked to the round gallery, to where the DJ’s box was . He was drinking heavily and was also smoking. I greeted him, scanned around and returned back to my sit, saying to my self again and again, “What am I doing here?”
The Bachelor arrived at 12 midnight and that was when the event actually started! I had had to wait for 5 long hours. I saw the dancing, the seducing, the drinking and smoking and all that. It was crazy. Perhaps some decent folks came for the party but I was so engrossed with the happenings, I did not notice them.Well, I did my thing.I mean the MC thing. I mixed my corporate style with some pidgin. And yes, some politicians and fellow LGA Chairmen graced the occasion. Protocol recognition had to be done and speeches weregiven by them, most under the influence of their drink
The event ended by 3am.And I felt really odd. What was I doing here? How did I get to accept this job to MC? The drinking, the teasing( Actually, a lot of crazy ladies asked me to dance with them; some under the influence of alcohol, told me to take them to a hotel). I kept having to reject people.It was really that crazy.
I made for home that early morning, feeling uneasy, vowing never to MC a job of that sort again.
Well, the story doesn’t end there. Because recently the same LGA Chairman called again.
“Hi George. Sorry, I failed to tell you that you did a fine job the last time. Inviting you to MC that event was deliberate. I was observing you. I noticed that , though you did a tidy MC job as you were paid, you couldn’t fit to the mold.You didn’t drink or smoke or all that…So I was thinking for someone to MC my birthday…and of all the options, I thought about you. Will you MC my birthday?”
“Will it be at a club a again?” I asked
He laughed a booming laugh and said, “No. It would be at my house”
SINGLE BUT NOT STUPID 