Once upon a time, in the city that never sleeps.
On a fateful Wednesday morning, hurriedly leaving my abode for another day’s hustle to make ends meet (as per a shorty has to maintain her melanin glow na), as there are no helping hands and gyal has to chow you know, something interesting happened.
Wetin gyal go do?
Did I mention I get compliments round the clock for maintaining my dark skin color amidst all the craze to be a ‘Yellow Sisi’? Yasssss!! I do, just so y’all know #BraggingRights #DarkSkinGirls #SkinLikeKoroEshin
Back to my tale…
I’d barely walked a couple of blocks from my residence when a luxurious Mercedes Benz pulled up beside me. My heart skipped a beat *in this era of panties and Benz logo*
Oluwa shanu mi o.
He wound down the glass and voila! Behind the wheel sat a fine man. As in fine in all ramification; four-corner head (don’t ask me what that is, I don’t know *rme*), alluring smile, well-tailored suit, and neatly trimmed fingernails with a silver wedding band.
‘Hey Pretty, are you going my way?’ He asked sweetly
Like say I sabi where him dey go, ase!!!!
In my mind, I was like, well, it’s a harmless ride, and nothing more. Right?
Then I caught the heavenly scent from the car… OMGosh, I could swear he was wearing a sweet-smelling Senses, as I had it used at some point in my life. I love perfumesssssss. From Channel to Tommy Hilfiger, Allure, Senses, list is endless….pricey ones please. All you gotta do is smell nice, and boom! We are buddies, regardless of how you look *Scratch that* I have an affinity for good looking folks.
I lost all the home training Iya Ibeji imbibed in me growing up at the sight of this fine homosapien. I made the sign of the cross, said a prompt prayer. This fine man was gentlemanly enough to open the door and in I went!!
Seat belt strapped, car seat adjusted and settled in for a jolly ride to work. All through the ride, this bloke kept on at it, asking questions for the gods. I went along with the flow, who won’t anyways? Fine dude, luxurious vehicle, great accent, and I learnt in the course of our conversation that he works with a private jet company. Ah, proper Lagos Big Boy/Man (whatever) – LBB for short. Y’all see what I mean? Excusez moi, don’t even think about calling me names before I give you a jab in the face.
Drive was a smooth one; of course, after the demise of my vehicle which I had to dispose, life vicissitudes dealt with me, a tale I hate to bear. Life ain’t fair, right?
All through the ride, he kept complimenting me, how pretty I was, my perky boobs, luscious lips and how I’ve got a beautiful bod. Mscheww. Guys, this was about 40 minutes into the ride, someone I met barely an hour before.
The trip to Ikeja Along lasted only about 50 minutes as Lagos roads were devoid of their characteristic palava – it was still some minutes before 6 am. Just before I alighted came the bombshell; “My wife and kids live in ‘the abroad,’ I’m in LasGidi all by myself and I need a companion. Basically, he wanted us to meet after close of work to ‘get down’.
Hehehe… like icecream, pizza and cable TV won’t do the trick. *Nansense and ingredients* Oniranu oshi.
“I will like to get down with you right now, if you’d permit me.” He added. Olorun iye! In the middle of Lagos road! See me see better o. Even if he was Aireyys… hell to the N-O.
Why do some men lack decorum?
I snapped back to reality. In my eloquent accent, I said, “I’d like to alight please.”
“Why hunnay?” (See format o) “Did I say something wrong?” Question for the gods.
I was livid, so I called on the gods of comportment to bestow unto me all the composure in the world.
He unlocked the car doors and I alighted in peace, thank goodness, not in pieces. Eko for show!
I appreciated his gesture and sashayed away.
I could feel his eyes boring into me, who cares? I knew within me I’d won a battle against one young, randy Lagos married man who has got a family in the Obodo Oyinbo and wanted a ‘bedwarm mate’, whatever other definitions depicts it.
Score line: Teespice 1 – 0 Young Randy Lagos Married Bobo
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
PS: When I got to my workplace, I saw his business card tucked in a corner of my bag. How in the world he managed to slip it in, beats me. God sees and knows all.
Don’t ask if I rang him? Or ever saw him again. Past Tense Is Always Past Tense.
Written by Taiwo Anifowosse (TeeSpice).
TeeSpice rescued my behind from writer’s block. I hope you enjoyed this piece. If you did, please leave a comment below.
XOXO, Bolaji Gelax