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It was a cool Tuesday evening in the month of March. The breeze emanating from the trees poured tranquility on us. It had been a rusty day for I and my squad. We were not exactly members of a military or para military unit. We referred to ourselves as a squad because it perfectly describes the relationship that exists between us. Anybody who knew any of us on campus probably knows all of us.

How we found ourselves in the liquor hub was a story for another day,what was observable is that this hub housed the dregs of the society. It offered comfort to the saddened. It uplifted the weary hustler. Even criminals found solace in this hub.

"Liquor hub" is probably a refined sobriquete for an ogogoro joint. It didn't exactly have the settings of a bar. It was majorly a wooden structured shop which housed the liquor being sold. They had wooden benches, no tables and rubber cups flying around. It was surrounded by so many trees.

The oxygen in the environment was severely contaminated with nicotine and weed but the several trees in the area made it bearable.

The hub had no particular name, we referred to it as respect because you definitely had to respect yourself at the hub. A N50 mixture at respect's place was enough to mess you up : gutter level, not just that, you also had to be careful with your utterance because if someone got offended by it then you would have to visit a clinic or even the hospital for treatment.

The entertainment was second to none at respect's place. The dress code here was red bloodshot eyes. There was always a drunk who will soon win millions from gambling. The funny broke guy who earns drinks with his jokes. The unemployed graduate that is always talking about the terrible state of the nation. You could tell them by the dirtiness of his shoes that he walked the length and breath the city today. He always has his CV in a file beside his cup of drink. He spews ignorance with so much confidence and if you dare to correct him, he will bathe you with saliva. That's the punishment you get for arguing with an unemployed graduate.

These were some of the usual characters at respect's place. There were the unusual ones too such as the drunk creative. He comes in as a gentleman, greets everybody normally and orders his drink quietly. After a drink or two, he starts displaying his talent. He could be a singer, rapper, actor, story teller etcetera. He only thrills you when he is tipsy. When he leaves you might not meet him there again until some few weeks after.

The hustler is constantly there. They come in different shapes, size and forms. Their intentions are always different. They try to hustle you of different things. It could be a drink, money, food or something crazy. They are easily recognizable because they start by hailing you. They can also be useful for networking if you needed something illegal, they can hook you up even if you needed a gun, as long as you can pay for the hook up.

On this day, I was here to ease myself of the stress of lectures. It had been a long stressful day for me and my friends. We were only three including me. You could tell from our appearance that we were students and we certainly looked different.

We discussed lectures for a while but remained quiet for the rest of the time. I only bought a cup of mixture worth N50 only. This was me trying to respect myself. The last time I bought two cups, I was carried home in a wheel barrow and I ended up vomiting all over myself. It was nasty experience.
I sipped the liquor slowly from the transparent rubber cup it was sold in. It was slowly dazing me but I was still in charge of myself.

I noticed a man across where we sat. He looked considerably older than us. He sat alone quietly with his arms folded. He had a flat top haircut and was properly dressed. He seemed lost in his thought.
I don't know if it was the drunkenness in me or my empathy was heightened on that day in particular but I felt his sadness from afar. I immediately ordered the server to give him two of whatever drink he desires. Drinks at Respect was cheap anyway. The highest went for N200 only.

When he got notified of my good gesture, he appreciated by bowing slightly to me. I waved back at him. My friends were too drunk to care. I continued drinking the mixture anyways.

Hi y'all. This is a short fiction story I completed recently. Do enjoy.