You are all probably expecting an explanation for my long absence but we don't have time for all that. I've got stuff to get off my chest.
The other day I was cruising along…yes I drive now.
Would hardly call what you do driving. More like…
Shut it Brain! Was I talking to you?
Do I not know how to start the car?
Does it not move when I press the thingy-ma-jig under my feet?
Do we not eventually reach our destination with minimal damage to both human life and private property?
You ran over an okada
Hisss… Must you always bring that up? He was in my way jo. The hairdressers were closing in 10 minutes and there was no way in hell I was going out without a quick touch up to my new Guatemalan weave (Like who knew Guatemalans had covetable hair?)
You ran him off the road and then reversed over his bike.
Look! I honked and he wouldn’t move, so I just nudged him a little so I could get past.
Your little nudge flung him off his bike and into a gutter.
Jeez… All this drama. Like gutter water ever killed anybody.
Did I not stop to see if he was alive and wanted to swap insurance details? And I might have rolled over his bike a few times but that was only because the ungrateful man called me a blind pot bellied monkey in Yoruba dammit! No one gets away with calling Mena that. I probably did him a favor by rolling out some of the dents on that death trap he calls a motorbike.
I don’t know why you’re worried about him? What about poor Consuela? My darling lil’Kia baby.
Lord! It’s a piece of Japanese metal on wheels woman.
Hush your mouth you evil thing. How dare you say such things about Consuela?
My baby got her paintwork all scratched trying to get away from the okada guy and his tyre wielding lynch mob. Honestly you have a slight traffic incident and suddenly everyone wants to do a “Joan of Arc” on you.
Why are we even talking about this? You’re making me digress from the main point of this post. Zip it and let me get on with it. Always trying to make me look bad, when I’m just a decent human being who can’t afford therapy.
Anyhoo…I was driving the other day, doing a respectable 80 mph down Adeola Odeku when the annoying traffic lights decided to change. Naturally as a law abiding citizen it would have been improper to endanger other motorists by coming to a screeching halt; so I decided to be selfless and whizz straight through. After putting my life on the line for others you can imagine my surprise when I glanced into my rearview mirror to find myself being chased by a hungry looking LASTMA official on an okada.
My first thought was “What the f…”?! Do the world a favor and what do you get? The next was “Hooray!”… I’ve always wanted to be involved in a high speed car chase; like Thelma and Louise but without the suicidal tendencies. So I rev up my engine for effect and speed off leaving the okada in my dust. I take a few side streets for good measure and zoom round the corner onto Ozumba Mbadiwe…
…Straight into the back of a Range Rover Sport in standstill traffic.
Jesu! Which kin country be this? Can a woman no longer engage in dangerous stunts on a public freeway in order to evade the law? Oh what to do? WHAT TO DOOOO??!!!! Whoever owns this car is going to sue my Marks and Spencer heart print granny knickers right off me.
Judging by the personalized plates, the name stitched unto his polo shirt and the huge identity bracelet on his wrist; the guy getting out of the Jeep with a face like thunder was Lami. Hmm…not bad. Sessy and me no see no ring. Obviously a tad obsessed with personalizing everything he owns but hey! Who am I to begrudge another fellow human being some self love?
How can you think about men at a time like this?
What do you mean? Is there an inappropriate time to think about men? Especially buff ones that drive Jeeps?
Err…yeah! Right now!
Just chillax and watch the master at work. We ain't paying a dime.
As Lami walks up to my window, I figure the best way to handle the situation is to disarm him with my awesome personality. So I lower my window, flutter my MAC augmented lashes and say
“Lami right? I’m so sorry. I just don’t know what happened”
He backs away in shock, his eyes darting around in panic. I swear the guy broke out in a cold sweat.
"I don’t know you. How do you know my name?"
Errrr…You're practically a working sign board for yourself mate. Lami obviously ain’t too bright but jeep and good looks cross out stupidity in my book so we won’t judge him too harshly.
Before I could get out of the car and assure Lami I wasn’t a modern day Kai driving witch, he rushes up to me and pushes my door closed.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" I yell
"You’re one of the girls from Fantasy Bar aren’t you? I recognize you…Booby Baby right?"
Ori re ko pe? Ta ni Booby Baby?
"Look, my fiancé is in the car and naturally she can't know about our little get togethers. So lets just keep it between us yeah? We can forget about the car and I’ll see you right later. You know what I’m saying?"
He then proceeds to chuck me on the shoulder and wink at me.
All through this I’m speechless. The only thing on my mind is I have a look like and she’s a garden tool called Booby Baby. So this is why strange men keep trying to stick things down my cleavage in supermarkets. I’m too weak to even defend myself, I simply raise my automated windows, narrowly missing Lami the perv's fingers.
I start my car and just as I’m about to inch my way forward and nudge Lami’s rear bumper to make myself feel better, I hear a knock on my passenger side window... It’s the LASTMA guy.
How the hell did he find me?!
“Madam wine down. Wine down now, now!”
Can today get any worse?
I don't have time for this now.
I must find this so called "Fantasy Bar" and confront this menace to my reputation at once.
So fess up...Who knows where it is?