…Hi and Hello flew through the air so quick. She was well Endowed, I didn’t need a view from the Crosshair to depict her Physical qualities. In my friends code language, Her statistic would read (Heaven: Half Watermelon, Earth: HipHop, Category: Gbovo). Sometimes I wonder how I managed to master the slangs. Literally she had average sized Tits and big Hips but her class was more of a local whore.
Why would she be so interested in my Novel? I must be feeling dumb at the moment. I just wasn’t in the mood for a Boy-Girl chat, its been helluva trip down here and I just need to sit on a bike to….. “Now what’s the street name again?” I asked myself. TAPA! Yh TAPA Street. “Okada! Tapa street” “100naira” “Lai Lai….50naira” Ma cousin had taken all the precautions to let me know the Transit fares. A Normal Me would av done the “Biker Mice” Drift all through the journey. Thanks to Fashola.
In No time I was on Tapa Street…..”Shuu!!! Okada, na dis small place u for collect 10 fibre for?” With a frown on my face the Bike Man turned and said nothing. Vroom!!!! He was off. I stood in front of Number 40 and stared at the almost collapsing building. Could this be the RadioVisual Studio my cousin dragged me all the way to? Something definitely doesn’t feel right today. Each Journey had a sad effect on me. Now that I’m steps away from my destination, I just can’t remember the House Number. There was no way I could reach Olakiitan, Ma Phone has been off since and I don’t even know the 2nd digit in her Phone Number. I walked the Length and Breadth of the street, scanning buildings from “Left – centre – Right” and back Left like a typewriter at work.
20minutes gone
The only enticing place on the street was a small local bar (beer parlour). Plan B: “Madam gimme Harp, Cold 1 o”….”No Harp sir.” That wasn’t the Madam’s voice, I looked up but saw no one asides the Madam. *shrug* “Star dey?” “Na only Trophy, wilfort, Goldberg, heneiken,….” I interrupted her and said “just bring me the Heineken.” As the Cold Bottle and Tumbler joined my Novel, Dead Phone and earpiece on the Table, I stared at the young lady who was rendering me the service. “God! It should have been this girl trying to keep a convo with me earlier on, not FIONA who introduced herself as Ngozi” I was wishing inside ma brain.
“Thank You” I said. As she walked away and I poured my drink, Thoughts of Ngozi came alive. The first gulp must have awakened my memory. What did I do back then? Giving her my number? Jesus Christ! She had requested for it in terms that I’d get her 2 of my novels. She really must have had it all planned out and I fell for it. “Foolish Me” I said in a low tone.
Bottle empty….Cup almost out, I was really thirsty. I better get outta here and find a solution to my fone so I can check for the exact House Number.
“Madam come take your money o” believing the Girl who served me would come fetch it, But the woman stepped forward. I was disappointed. Maybe I should just settle for a 2nd bottle and use the opportunity to chat with “Service Girl”. “Nah! Another Day” I told myself. I stepped back into the street and I was back to my confused state. If only I’d see a Shop whose Generator is on and charge my phone a little.
I walked outta the street and my eyes was back to the “Typewriter Movement.”
10Minutes Later:
“I’d like to charge my phone a little sir”…..”Its 50naira”….”No, I just want to boot it on to fetch a number”…..The man started stories about the Nigeria economy and Fuel cost, I wasn’t in the mood so I just handed him my phone and he charged it. 50naira don go like that o…..
I walked back into the street to locate number 45. Few houses passed and there she was, Just after the bar. I took a full Head to Toe scan of her and I could tell ma Third Leg Moved….It was “Service Girl.” She Stared in ma direction and smiled at me. For all I cared, Olakiitan, Number 45 or all THE TRIP thoughts could wait. I found myself smiling as I walked up to her.