This yibo-smoking wife of the Marleys stood me up last night. She and her cohorts did. And I’m sad, mad and feeling very bad. And it was actually her command performance at the Bob Marley Memorial Concert in Kingston, Jamaica, in 1999, that really attracted me to this mendacity.
A show billed for 7:00pm didn’t start by 11:30pm on a Sunday night, when I left in anger with my friend. I even met Lorenzo Mba…who showed up typically early (6:30pm for a 7:00pm show) seething with rage and not sipping any drink at all. It wasn’t funny, please.
I mean, how does one begin to explain paying so much money, wasting so much time on what was meant to be a treat for a departing colleague…and it all ended in the waste bin! I’m sorry, Ajay.
One of the ticketing girls had the temerity to tell me that the show was on…simply because her (Lauren’s) daughter was upstairs somewhere in the hotel. WTF??? I actually sensed a looming disaster when at 7:30pm we coasted into the “notorious” Eko Hotel without the traditional “go-slow”!
The organizers, who had previously failed to deliver on the show in May, didn’t consider it necessary for them to regularly engage the irate fans to at least mollify them. No explanations. Literally. Until I stormed off by 11:30pm. Chai.
Eko Hotel must be smiling to the banks this morning, if they didn’t do so already last night what with the massive, angry consumption of F&B by the short-changed fans.
Someone told me just now that the show later happened, and I’m like are they crazy? What did they expect an “Omo ise” like me to do last night? Wait till 1am or so and grumble through an apparently lackluster show and then sleep through my Monday morning meeting? No way Jose!
Ndi ara!!! They must refund me my money. Let the drinks be on me. No lele. But my ticket and that of my friend must be fully refunded. Otherwise…this story no go end. QED.
Arrant nonsense. Pure nincompoopism!!!
Emeka Oparah wrote from Lagos.
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