Art Worlds in Ghana

Saskia and I had already been to Reggie Rockstone’s club, the Office, a couple of times together. Reggie hadn’t been there either time though. On Sunday, he texted Saskia saying he was there and we should come. We showed up…and it was completely empty except for him. He was sitting outside on one of the wooden benches. He had on a slick pinstriped suit and sunglasses that complemented his dreadlocks. The Office was locked. Saskia and I looked at each other.

Reggie when it turned into dawn.

He didn’t want us to come to his club, per se. It turned out he needed us to stay up with him so that he could make a TV interview at 5:30 in the morning without falling asleep. We joined him on the bench as he ate waakye (hot rice and beans) and told us stories. We talked about love, marriage, religion, hip life, and his ex-wife who threw a toaster on him.

And then it started. I was wearing a black-and-white striped dress from H&M that wasn’t all that long, and I could feel the bugs devouring my legs. I tried swatting at them, but what could I do? I didn’t have on pants. The club was locked.

The hours ticked by. The car that Reggie had asked to wait for us turned off its lights with a snort. The sun came up. We headed over to Metro TV. After keeping us waiting, they informed us they wanted Reggie for 7 am. He was pissed. He hadn’t slept all night, and there was no way he could stay up until 7. So we left. Amidst the drama, no one looked down at my legs. But when we dropped Reggie off at his house, he looked down into the cab and saw…my legs, covered in hundreds of bright red spots.

“You got leprosy, girl?”

I laughed ruefully and said, “Just mosquito bites.”

The cab driver took us home. Saskia and I slept all afternoon. We went to the hospital that night, and I wore pants for a week and a half.

So, I paid dearly for an all-nighter with Reggie Rockstone. But I think it was maybe worth it.