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Wednesday, June 09, 2010

Hey! Whats with all the zeros?

Gosh... I’m actually glad to be back at work amongst the office crazies. I have learnt to appreciate their madness after my humbling experience in the Gambia. Luckily Grumpy doesn’t seem to have told anyone about my Janet Jackson style wardrobe malfunction. Guess he’s still high on being the man of the hour after Bank Manager signed on the dotted line. Like he could have done it without my amazing presentation skills. User! Anyway let me not talk too much before I find topless pictures of myself on the bulletin board. I shall be on my best behavior till assessment time and then I can relax into my old ways again.

Darn! I just broke a nail trying to crack open a pistachio. What is it with me and nuts this month? Are they on a mission to ruin me? Sod that! Me hungry and I’m eating these damn nuts. They cost me N3,549 Naira. Yes I know the exact price o. That’s the equivalent of 12 odd pounds and I ain't happy. The old Mena would have slapped the sales assistant for daring to utter such numbers around the vicinity of a 500g packet of nuts. But the new Lagos Big girl in training has learnt to assess the situation around her before taking action. Had I been alone on the queue to pay I would have said

“3500 fun ki ni? No be epa? “

“But they are imported ma”

“Don’t let the broken English fool you honey. Me too I dey imported as you see me so.”

“Sorry Ma, but its expensive to fly these things in.”

“No vex. I didn’t realize this particular bag of pistachios had their own seat in first-class. I beg take your thing jare. Barawo Banza’s !

And I would go outside and look for the nearest groundnut seller.

But if there are people on the queue behind me; I simply put on my Karl Lagerfeld sunnies so the sales assistant and other customers wont see the tears as I hand over my card and pray GT Bank won't disgrace me by refusing my transaction. Yes people! I am learning. I no longer haggle with them at the Davina store at the Palms after the threatened to name and shame me over the public announcement system. I have decided to pretend I have it even when I don’t.

Like the other day when I supposedly had a date with Speedy Gonzale's BB Guy. Fine, maybe she was right about the whole quirky car = quirky guy scenario. He’s been interesting bb wise so far and he makes me laugh (You all know how I am with a guy that can make me giggle). Seen a picture and yes I would happily have his love child. Only problem is I have no idea what he sounds like. In this day and age of bbing it’s neigh on impossible to get someone to give you a call.

Like the art of letter writing was lost to the e-mail, the act of picking up the phone just to hear the sound of someone’s voice is slowly disappearing. I haven’t quiet got the hang of it yet though. I still yack away on the phone for ages and its costing me a fortune. I only realized how bad it was when the Mallam that sells phone cards next to my house brought his whole family to greet me the other day

“Chidden gweet madam. Na because of her you go go school this month.”

“Hooray for Madam. May you always have people to talk to”

 The kids gave me 3 cheers and danced around me in a merry circle. All very touching but not sure I want anyone’s educational future to be dependant on my in ability to shut up for 5 seconds.

Anyway, never spoken to him. Have no idea if he can even speak English. You know how some people can write really well but when they actually speak you have to duck for cover because the taboning is like machine gun fire? Worse, he could be all manly looking. Muscles rippling as he walks and then he opens his mouth and you start looking around for Alvin and the Chipmunks. Fingers crossed he’ll be perfect. A Barry White sound alike with an absolute command of the English language. But what to wear for this hook up?

My stress, peanut and diet coke diet is working a lot better than I expected and none of my clothes fit anymore. Need me a new pair of jeans. So head to the mall and nip into one of  the little boutiques to try on a couple. Finally settle on a pair that make my bum look like a peach and my legs like they go on forever. I’m soooooooooo cute. I can’t find a price tag on them anywhere but I recognize the store label and they ain’t exactly up market. So not worried about breaking the bank. I skip to the till all excited and hand them over to the sales assistant.

The store is busy and as she scans my item, I slowly start to hyperventilate. Hey! whats with all the zero's? Is that the item serial number on the till display because it sure as bloody hell can't be the price? So many numbers. How is that bloody possible? They’re high street jeans for crying out loud. I consider ignoring the sales assistants query about if I was paying by cash or card and running out of there as fast as my chubby little legs would carry me but I’m surrounded by snobby cows. I recognize one of the "Look my bag before you look me" girls from one of my accounts . We both like to oppress each other by slamming whatever designer bag we're carrying that day on the conference table whenever we have a meeting. She's one of  those annoying people that knows everybody, so God forbid I'll allow her to start spreading the goss that Mena can’t afford jeans. What to do?

I guess I’ll just have to bite the bullet and hand over my card. This date better be worth it. I’m so snogging him weather he likes it or not. Even if it means getting the MOPO's to hold him down whilst I plant several hot smooches on him.

Er.. Isnt that sexual assualt?

So? Who does he want to tell that story too? Your friendly neighbourhood policeman?

"Boo hoo! Oh Officer I've just been violated by a hot woman. She was kissing me all over...Sob. It was just awful. I feel so dirty and used."

I beg! He'll probably get the crap kicked out of him for not dragging me into the bedroom by my hair and having his wicked way with me. Furthermore, there better be some butt groping involved as well cause I ain’t paying my entire going out budget for the month on ass enhancing jeans and not get my ass complimented and groped dammit!

Just as she’s about to swipe my card through and bankrupt me,  a miracle happens. The machine starts to make a funny sound.

“I’m sorry madam but our card system has crashed again. Its been doing it all morning.”

Lord, I thank you. Please disregard all previous comments on snogging and ass groping out of wedlock. It was the devil.

“That’s a shame and I really wanted these jeans.”

You are still standing there posing for Shop Assistant Mena? Instead of you to run before the system decides to restart. I pirry you.

“I can hold it for you madam if you want to go and get cash from the ATM?”

“Yes please. I’ll be right back.”

Whatever suckers. Mena’s going home to look for an Obioma to take in her Baba Aluwe looking jeans for N200. Nonsense.

Anyway it’s a good thing I never did buy those jeans because if I had I would now be looking for some Area boys to go and beat my money out BB boy’s body for not turning up. So gonna kick his arse when I eventually see him and his little quirky mini.

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