Thursday 5 May 2016

The Service Chronicles 39: Workers' Day




You know when you are making a mistake and you just can’t help it, you are enjoying your sin (sin is too strong a word). You are sha just falling in and into the sticky mess of nonsense you are doing. I found myself in such a situation on Monday morning. Lanky was ringing the bell and I saw myself rise form my sleep, but I really didn’t stand up. I honestly couldn’t. The sleep had tied me down, it was when he rang the second bell I stood up. 

It was a public holiday and the first one I will enjoy as an employee of labour. Happy Workers’ Day to me.
When devotion ended I crawled back to my room, popped a pain killer and went to bed. See the way I just sounded like a drug addict, it was ordinary Panadol, and it was not even extra. I just had to deal with some stupid pesky pain. By the time I woke up it was almost afternoon.

I had promised Rose that I would follow her to her makeup studio by 11. I know oshey modella. It comes with the face. *big smile*. I cleaned up and then I got the sad news we couldn’t go. Long story that involved the lack of a key, so we couldn’t go

So I settled down with my series, Layo came around with some snacks and I had a mini lunch, which was more than welcome. You know poverty just makes you wanting things you can’t afford. Like when you had the money it was not sweeting you to buy but when money has finished that is when they will release one dope ass movie or you remember you have not eaten Pringles in two months or that when you will be see Sharwama and grilled fish.

God bless Layo who gave a girl some rich tea in a time of intense lack. We loosened her hair, I abandoned it for a while seeing as Dark Angel was calling. Then a real call came in, no other person than that my personal kidnapper. He wanted to hang. If you ask me, I don’t know what I could possibly say to an older man. Okay let me rephrase that what I could possibly say to a way older man (I believe nine or ten years my senior is way older) I do not know, are we going to discuss the politics I don’t know or the drama of celebrities he might not know. This is where my respect for some girls comes in, girls who are down to just let loose with people really old. I always have that fear that I might just do something stupid. Like I make tons of mistakes in my social relations with people in the same age groups as me talk less of someone that is older than me with a century.

It might seem like I have not grown up or I am not mature enough, I will agree with all of you ancient of days, all these nineties babies that will be forming grandma and grandpa for people like me, we who are also nineties babies. But I just don’t really get how to sit with older people and swap stories.

Anywho, kidnapper wanted to hang, so I told him I would be set by 5pm and this was around 3:48. By 5:15 I was fighting with my brows. Brows can be a tricky thing and if you get them wrong you just loose the morale to continue with your make up. And they are not always easy to draw.
Like we have bad hair days and terrible brow days, I was having one on Monday. I managed to whip up something sensible and then came the problem of hair. That passed in a wave, God bless whoever invented scarfs.

By 5:30 I was ready, I called this man and waited for him o only for him to call me by seven and say he was still coming. I just told him not to bother.

I had a talk with Churchill which yielded fair results. We had a pretty pretty long devotion and then I had a talk with Nnamdi. Let’s just say it ended with me crying. A lot.

I called Gbade and hashed out things with him. I don’t know how to not talk to my friends. Tragic flaw is that I am a lover of people and a lover of plenty talk.

Somewhere in this boy’s mind, I still want to date him. E ma gba mi (see me see trouble)

I was still very distraught by what Namnam had said so I called someone in desperation.

Mistake? 

Nkem Oyaghire

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