“Still suffering the after effects of all that wine?” I asked Max as I steadied her.
She looked up and in her eyes I saw something. She blinked and it was gone.
“No jare,” she beat my hand away. “I was about to knock when you opened the door.”
Do you knock with all your body?
“Do you have a spare toothbrush by any chance?” I asked.
“Check in the cabinet above the sink.”
So we are a little confused.
Who are you?
Who created you?
We were sitting on the floor eating breakfast – I had a bowl of fruit & fibre, Max had a plate of French toast. We both had steaming mugs of coffee – and I was going through my phone messages when I came across these DMs.
I set my bowl down, trying to decide who the tweep was.
I come alive on twitter on post days: put up the link, see the RTs, log out till the next post day. Oh, and follow some people. So I was surprised that someone thought to DM me.
Hi, don’t be afraid. I’m a single male in Lagos. Not a single Lagos male.
If Christianity is to be believed, God did. I know my parents had a hand – or leg – in it. I sent a response to the creation question.
And when you say “we”, who are we?
Legion, was her response.
What’s the difference? Single male in Lagos and single Lagos male? Same animal as far as I can see.
I tried to educate her on the important difference.
“Earth to Bobo,” Max waved in my face.
“Sorry,” I looked up from my phone. “You say something?”
“What were you so focused on?”
“See, it’s someone on twitter. Can you believe this?” I showed her the messages.
“I was just telling her the differences between the two type of people. Ultimately, a single male living in Lagos has no roots. He’ll thrive anywhere he has to move to. But a single Lagos male has his life and roots and everything in Lagos. Take him out of Lagos…”
“…and he struggles.” she completed my line of thought.
“Exactly!” we slapped palms in a high-five.
“She looks like a bookish type,” Max said and I agreed, not that this observation had anything to do with anything.
“What are your plans for this Valentine’s?” I asked her.
“After last night? Nothing.” she got up to clear the dishes. My cereal was soggy, ruined. “I already got the best Valentine’s day: waking up in the arms of my favourite man.” she leaned in and kissed my ear.
She was aiming for my cheek, but I moved away in the last instant.
When you say ‘after last night’ like that, it’ll seem like there was more to last night than getting fucked…”
“You said it!” she called out as she went.
“…by alcohol.” I finished.
Two days later I got another DM.
If I really want to know, I can find out. But, lemme keep the curiosity longer.
It took. Me a minute to realise she was asking who I was.
I’m sure you have your ways, and I am not a secret. I’m really easy to find – I’m either at work, home, or hanging with my guys. I replied.
You know what I’m talking about, but I have to face today on half belle so I’ll save my strength.
The chat veered into food and best food territory, and we both agreed that free food was the best food.
Like, what is the point leaving your house if there won’t be food where you’re going?
I like you 😀
It took me another minute to realise she meant the way I liked food. At least I hoped so.
I like me too 😉
That evening she came back with a rant about how in Nigeria we think we are ready to go toe to toe with the world but it’s only a show. No substance.
As long as our system encourages kickbacks, and our value system is tied to wealth things won’t change.
Urgh. That word. APC messed it up for me.
As long as we look at it from a who will bell the cat point of view, cat’s gonna run wild. I replied.
We made all sorts of silly cat puns – I didn’t realise they were that many.
You got all kinds of energy now. Score any free food?
Yes ke. Croissants and orange juice. Then small chops and cappuccino. Then pizza.
At the mention of coffee, I was excited like a cat with a yarn.
Are you a coffee person? I asked.
I’m not a coffee person. They were serving it and it had milk in it and a foam on top…
I heard the engine of the plane carrying the P I was hoping to set stall. I heard the whine and it came crashing to earth. But she wasn’t done.
Tot it was something special. Apaz it’s just coffee and milk and sugar. And I’m sure mai tea can achieve that foam.
I set my phone down and clutched my chest. The pain was violent. I checked her bio again and looked at her avi.
Please. Stop. Talking.
They put the beans in the coffee maker and add other things and bam. Frothy coffee.
She wouldn’t stop.
That evening she DM’d me and she picked up where we left off and carried on about food. Her favourite food. And the way she felt about dodo.
If she noticed I wasn’t as enthusiastic as before, her messages didn’t suggest it. It wasn’t about the coffee, I had a long day at work and was bone tired. I was struggling to keep my eyes open.
I’ve run out of intelligent things to say. It’s past my bed time.
Don’t let me keep you up, I replied. Especially seeing as I don’t know how early you have to leave the house tomorrow.
The next morning she DM’d me, then in the evening. We didn’t chat the day after, and we spoke less and less as the week progressed.
Meanwhile, Maxine and I hung out twice more during that week.
“What are you doing on Saturday?” she asked. We had met up for drinks at The Place, and were waiting for the asun we ordered to come.
“What’s Saturday?” I opened an imaginary appointment book. “It’ll seem my Saturday is free.” I said.
“Wanna go someplace with me?”
“Trick question?” I asked.
“I’ve got two tickets for the movie awards thing…”
“It’s a date.” I grinned.
The asun arrived then and we dove in.
Categories: Back On the Shelf