The Hawaiian Screwdriver

Photo credits: Maison Bleu
Photo credits: Maison Bleu

Nothing good ever comes out of something with a name in the lines of Hawaiian screwdriver. Drama and kerfuffle is always lurking behind such names as do Caro & Kevo Hehe. What is a Hawaiian screwdriver you ask? It’s basically a combination of vodka, pineapple juice and ice-cubes. You feel dizzy the moment it hits you, not from the alcohol per say but from the sheer flavor fabulousness that is the combination of sugar and alcohol. Hold on tight to the Hawaiian screwdriver and don’t let it leave your mind, clutch on to it like a jealous lover and let it swirl, whoosh and swish in your mind before scrolling to the next paragraph.

Done? Good.

Friday night, finds me in the CBD with three of my buddies. We’re headed to a graduation shindig tucked away in the bowels of Westland’s, in a place only known as Jacaranda Hotel (Pizza garden). We’re feeling lucky. Three guys on a night out, free booze, the possibilities are endless. Right?

We elbow ourselves through the mass of humanity thronging the streets, into a matatu, the noisy kind and blitz off to Westland’s.

Ten minutes later we disembark and head for Jacaranda hotel. Anto is busy telling me how he knows the graduate as Kevo unscrews the bottle of Minute Maid he’s holding on to. Be advised that the contents in the bottle are anything but Minute Maid. We’re chattering when Kevo spots, up in the distance, about six ladies walking briskly along The Mall.

“Tuwafuate,” Kevo suggests. His team Mafisi instinct immediately kicking in. “Hapana, hata hatujui wanaenda wapi.” Anto retorts. Personally I could use some warmth candy, what? It’s a chilly night. And have you looked at the weather outside? We’re in hot pursuit of the women, Anto is walking reluctantly behind us. We get close, they notice our presence and they start giggling coyly.

A little eavesdropping and we soon learn that they’re dropping two of their friends at the bus stop and heading for a party at the same location. Providence!

The group shrinks to four and we step right in as able replacements, talking, teasing and laughing. The otherwise chilly night is beginning to warm up. My new prospect is in a loose fitting cobalt blue dress that falls shy of her knees. Her brown eyes reveal a mischievous twinkle. She’s perfect.

Kevos catch with her Hollywood looks is clearly out to provoke.  She’s in a crushed rose flowery mini dress that draws all attention to her exposed fair and flawless thighs. Kevo cannot believe his good fortune.

We arrive at the venue and to our surprise one of the girls knows the graduate. People are scattered all over the place, most of the tables are empty, either the entourage already left or the poor graduate, bless her soul has no friends.

We exchange pleasantries with the graduate who asks us if we prefer beer or cocktails and before we can say anything our women are already singing “COCTAILS” in a broken rendition. We settle down as we wait for the cocktail blesser to bless us. My princess sits next to me, crosses her legs and her dress inches way past her knees. My heart along with other organs do a jig as the waiter arrives holding what he calls the Hawaiian screwdriver. Well, someone is getting screwed tonight. My organs won’t stop doing jigs.

Second Hawaiian screwdriver and memsahib starts spilling her guts to me and I let my hand stray, it has its own mind and seconds after landing on her sensual thighs it starts dancing colorfully and wildly, she entertains it and I think to myself as I watch her down her third screwdriver, this will be a helluva night.

I’m getting excited but my princess looks dizzy, her eyes have grown puffy and her cheeks have turned pale. She leans on my lap then spurts out an avalanche of thick gooey vomit all over my jacket.

Anto is sequestered next to me, he tries to get up without realizing he’s drunk, he stands up and he is back on his chair in an instant like a pile of potatoes and it dawns on him that the laws of standing up have changed.

Kevo is doing much worse on the adjacent table. His beau has had one too many glasses of the screwdriver and she has turned from a cute bunny to a raging witch. She now claims to have lost her phone. There is a small gathering at Kevos table, the graduate is trying to diffuse the situation, words are flying, chairs are pulled and somebody gets slapped. It’s not just anybody, its little Miss Hollywood who lays a hot one across the graduate’s smug face.

I stare mid wiping vomit from my jacket with my jaw on the floor. Either we picked up crazy women or the Screw driver screwed us all.

P.S. I can already picture you giddy with excitement prancing to the shop to buy pineapple juice and vodka so that you can try the Hawaiian screwdriver experiment. Don’t, and if you must make sure a physician is around with sedative.

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