Sorry Girls, Not Tonight

Going out has become so stressful. There was a time, like a true Yoruba indigene, I could dance a whole weekend away: go from jollofing and wriggling my barely existent hips to a Yoruba crooner in the afternoon to dancing at a night party or club for hours. It seemed as if I was biologically programmed to say yes to any suggestion that involved a good party.

These days, between the rain, the crowds, the driving, the petrol, the check points, the sweating, the social charge you might have to pay the man who watches your car, the possible hangover the next morning, you wonder if it's really worth leaving home to go socialise or listen to Wande Coal tell me that, two years ago, he was in Mushin.

It appears my bones have become too weary for unplanned outings. I like to know a week in advance what the itinerary will be for a party or an outing. Especially in Lagos, the successful outing can be quite a challenge. The outfit, transport, how extroverted you would want to be, and what time you expected to leave - everything has to be planned and timed to the second. Like a well rehearsed orchestra. It's just so tedious.

But certainly not as wearisome as the appropriate excuse one has to give for not wanting to go out. People always seem to require a good justification when you decline an offer to not meet up, go to the cinema, go out clubbing, go for a drink, and go to lunch or something. Why is everyone always going? No one seems happy to just stop and be anymore. Sitting is such an underrated activity these days.

The other day, I met up with a few friends for a quick dinner at the steak house in Eko hotel. The plan was one duck breast in orange sauce and I'd be off home. Until, some eager party hopping friend suggested we all go off dancing for a bit. For once, while everyone nodded in approval, I responded loudly and without hesitation: ABSOLUTELY NOT.

My friends looked a bit confused. "Oh right, you have to get up early tomorrow," one offered. I didn't. "Oh, I forgot you're driving." I wasn't. "Are you really that tired?" They asked a little baffled.

I wanted to lie, to give one of the appropriate reasons I've had to give for the last five years. The sort of excuse that no one can argue with. My favourite is always "I have a thing with my family." No one ever argues with family. They assume it must be just as wearisome for you - spending time with your family. So they don't argue much. They simply nod and sigh with empathy.

But that night, I couldn't muster up any excuses. I hadn't expected anyone to suggest such a ridiculous idea.

The pressure to have fun these days is just too much.

So I offered the truth: "I'm not tired; I'd just rather watch TV with a glass of wine tonight." Suddenly they all looked disappointed, as if it would have been better if I'd said I had appendicitis or a flesh eating disease. But I was unrepentant. Enough was enough. Enough with the lying and the selflessness. When I don't want to go out, surely, I should simply be allowed to say that I don't want to without making up excuses to make others feel better about it.

But they didn't seem to understand or appreciate my response. What ensued was the "cable versus table" battle. I tell you, if only the United Nations displayed the same passion for world poverty that my friends showed for convincing me to go out. We'd all be living in an egalitarian world where poverty meant surviving on less than a hundred dollars a day.

For anyone who needs a few tips dissuading your friends from dragging you out, here are a few winning arguments you can employ without once fibbing.

Table side: You're only young once

Cable side: Youth is wasted on the young.

Table side: Life is too short. Live it up

Cable side: Ja Rule did the living it up. In the '90s. Look how he turned out.

Table side: It is someone's birthday.

Cable side: I know; I sent a card.

Table side: Free shots on Thursday.

Cable side: Who needs shots when you have television?

Table side: You might meet the love of your life.

Cable side: If he's the love of my life, then he's probably at home sleeping.

Table side: Your dress looks really stunning. You should come show it off.

Cable side: And have someone pour their drink on it? Are you mad?

Table side: If you don't come, we can't be friends anymore.

Cable side: That's OK. That's a risk I'm willing to take.

Eventually, they just gave up -as I'd hoped they would. We could all try and fight it. But if took such a long exchange of words to convince someone to do something, surely, it wasn't worth it. You just have to embrace that you might lose a few friends along the way. But as Posner said in Alan Bennett's The History Boys, "I'm not happy, but I wasn't unhappy about it."