At times like this, I just sit sober with my 33 export in one hand while I let the other hand wander inside my short. Don't ask 'why?' I really cannot talk about a habit that's as old as me. Anyway I just got a call from an old friend - Philip - whom I have tried to avoid since our graduation. He is getting married soon and wants to come over for a couple of days or weeks. Like seriously? Out of the blues. How did he even get my new numbers? Oh, yes, he said he called a friend that called a friend or something like that. 

Well, the reason I kept my distance was not farfetched. Philip was a thief. It seemed like he was born for it and I just got tired having to endure such an abusive and embarrassing friendship. He always stole my things and I was not the only one who complained every boy on our block - back in school - did.

I remember one day, way back in Uni at our favorite drinking joint plastered with wallpapers and posters of 33 export lager beer on their walls. It was home for us and our table was already crowded with the glue that bound us together no matter the times - 33 export; then she walked in. Amanda was my course mate and the only girl I had crush on for the past two years. Philip knew about her - technically - like I told him all I could about her with descriptions and all but guess what; when she walked in with her perfect height and curves she came to sit beside Philip on our table.

 Obviously she also had perfect taste - not for men but for the drink; because when she placed her order, it was the drink of friendship - 33 export. I wondered how she would choose my friend over me even though in my head she technically didn't know I existed. The worst part, the dude was wearing my shirt and one of my old sneaks yet he had my girl all wrapped around his finger while I sat miserably with no one noticing.

That was the hardest blow he ever dealt me after that one time he made me wear a dirty shirt to the exam hall while he took the only clean shirt in my closet as I took a shower. Till today, I never got that shirt back. He doesn't call it stealing by the way. He says he only borrows but of course borrowed stuffs never return as long as they are taken by Philip. Call me petty but Philip and I only met in school not the hood and if I couldn't find my clothes they somehow happened to be lost in his stack - still can't fathom how he manages to steal when my door is locked. Oh, did I mention I changed locks constantly when my 33 export started magically depleting from my fridge?

Now he's coming over to visit me before his wedding, I'm bracing up to be robbed of my house. Lol.
As annoying as he seems, the thought of Philip brings smiles to my face. He's just like that weird sibling you hate and love at the same time. What's more relaxing than fighting over everything yet settling scores with chilled bottles of 33 export?  The beer that is brewed for friendship.

So join me as I raise a glass of 33 export to my friend turned brother. 


                                                                  Sandra T. Adeyeye

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