Awestruck!

Today’s post was written by my darling twiyawo. It’s only a little bit lengthy but the end is defo worth it. I mean, she’s learnt a lot from her twusby ;-). Sadly, she’d rather remain anonymous. For someone who likes PDA, I don’t understand why she would act so shy. I asked her to write me a love letter and here’s what she came up with.

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“Hold it!”

I screamed sliding through the nearly closed elevator doors. There was absolutely no way I was going to climb down from the 13th floor to the ground floor. I smiled at the elevator-operator who had been laughing at my little stunt. I tried to catch my breath whilst taking my usual position at the left corner of the elevator. There was nobody else there, which was quite unusual for the busy afternoons in this building.

“Ground floor?” he asked still smiling.

“Yes”, I answered.

I stood quietly for the next 30seconds without fidgeting or talking like I would usually do. I was lost in my thoughts planning my possible escape routes in case the lights go out or a bomb exploded in the building. The BokoHaram threats in the country were getting very rampant and I, like every other Nigerian, was terrified. I looked up at the ceiling of the elevator trying to identify the removable vents I had seen people in the movies escape through even though that happened mostly when they were being attacked flesh-eating zombies. That can’t happen here. I mean our current flesh-eating zombies are our pot-bellied, hat-wearing lea-

BING!

The elevator had stopped on the 11th floor. I disliked stops especially at times like this when I was very hungry and craving the sharwama sold across the street. I considered it the best I had eaten in Lagos and trust me, I have eaten a lot of sharwama. I could never figure what made it so perfect was it the chicken, the hotdog, the vegetables in ketchup and mayo wrapped beautifully and heated perfectly to my liking. My belly grumbled at the thought of it. I wondered who that could be that had stopped my jolly elevator ride. Who was that person that couldn’t sacrifice his or her comfort and take the stairs for me to enjoy a straight ride to the ground floor?

It hit me and hard too. That scent… that aftershave was so familiar.

BOSS.

He stepped into the elevator slowly and gracefully like a lady yet with the strong footing of a gentleman. The elevator-operator greeted him with even more smiles than he had on when I had performed my Tomb Raider act.

“Ass kisser”, I thought to myself.

I hadn’t seen his face yet but his voice when he replied the elevator man had me seriously wondering who he was. He stood quietly at the right corner of the elevator except for the light tapping sounds that came from his phone. I took my time and scoped him from toe to head starting from his well-fitted trouser to the watch he had on.

ROLEX.

Classy.  Judging from his hands, he was most definitely fair in complexion. In his left hand, he held a leather briefcase. I continued to his right hand which was busy dexteriously typing away on his BlackBerry. His fingers were slim and long with visibly, well-manicured nails. I smiled mischievously at the naughty thoughts I was having of what those fingers could and should do. His suit was obviously tailored with the way it clung to his slightly built frame. Up to his chin then his neatly-shaven cheeks and those pink supple lips that had cracked a smile as I stared at them. His smile, beautiful and simple revealed a set of sparkling white teeth. The kind you would see in a Macleans Advert. That smile…that SMILE?!  He was smiling. Why?!

My eyes met his. They were light brown and seemed to be shimmering under the elevator lighting. He was looking at me and smiling. It was like his eyes could see into my soul. Did he know I was checking him out? Oh no! How embarrassing! I cringed and smiled back sheepishly at him.

“Hi”, he said. My heart flew out to the Empire State Building, melted and somehow, found its way back where it belonged. I couldn’t reply for a few seconds. Speechless, I was. His voice got me exploding inside like the skies in America on the fourth of July. I got myself together and tried not to make my inner drooling so obvious.

“Me?” I asked looking back like there was someone else behind me. There wasn’t.

He laughed and nodded. Was there anything he could do that wouldn’t make me die and resurrect inside?

I responded in the most beautiful and sexy tone I could make up.

‘Hello!’

“Work going good today?” he asked.

Why was he torturing me, ehn?!  He obviously had no idea what every word he said did to my innocent soul.

“Not so busy today, so yes… work is good”.

He smiled back, shining those probably bleached out set of teeth.

‘Where are you headed?” he asked again.

“Across the street”

“Sharwama?”

I gave him a puzzled look.

“Yeah. How did you know?”

“Everyone loves that sharwama”

I laughed in the most lady-like fashion I could portray covering my mouth as I laughed  so as to hide my slightly browned set of teeth. So much for all that Close-up talk. I’m switching my toothpaste after today.

“True”

The elevator stopped and a few more people got in. We were on the 8th floor. He moved closer to me to make room for the new passengers. The elevator door shut closed and our journey continued.

“So how does a lunch date sound?”

What?! Not only is he Adonis, he is smooth and suave.

I wanted to front a little as required by the Dating Rule Book but what the heck, I’ll front later. All that was going through my head was FREE LUNCH! FREE LUCNH! FREE LUNCH WITH A HOTTIE THAT COULD MAKE GRANDMA HAVE AN ORGASM (and she’s dead!)

“I am headed there and so are you, right?  Sure then.”

“Cool!”

He smiled and looked at his phone to reply some messages that had been coming in.

Lord, what have I done to deserve such a blessing of nature. I had stolen a lot of stapling pins today and Emeka’s last slice of sandwich. I watched him as he replied the messages on his phone. He smiled at some of them. Maybe those ones were from his girlfriend. I hoped and prayed he was single…and searching. I was single… not searching but he just might be a package sent from the Lord to soothe my stressed and occasionally lonely romance-movie-watching, ice-cream-eating, novel-reading workaholic soul.

As I stood there, watching Brad Pitt over there do his thing with his phone, my mind began to travel far away like that of most girls when we meet a new guy. I began to wonder what it would be like to date him; to be held in those arms when it is cold at night and kissed by those soft, full pink lips that would probably turn slightly red after a few soft nibbles on them. The thought of being told the words “I love you” with the sincerest of hearts made my toes crinkle. I felt like a little girl with a new Barbie doll. He looked like the romantic sort. The kind to take long walks by the beach and run around trees with me like in those Nigerian movies they show on Africa Magic. How pathetic those films are sometimes. Leg no dey pain camera man. If he is wealthy enough- from his watch to his tailored suit to the phone in his palm, that was a yes- maybe he would be the type to surprise with me dinner at a beautiful restaurant and lovely gifts. The thought of Vacationing with him on the Caribbean or maybe on Obudu Cattle ranch seemed far-fetched but slightly realistic. We would make love in every corner of the hotel building. Gosh, I have missed a lot in this lonely life of mine. I’m surprised cobwebs haven’t covered my delicate area. I sighed.

Would he be the cheating type? Guys this good looking have the tendency to be such with all the ladies throwing themselves at them. Women can be such sluts sometimes. We would fight and have wild make up sex in the living room to the kitchen to the bedroom ending up in the shower and if we ever broke up, he just might be the type to come under my window and sing me my favorite love song to win me back. We would probably have ‘OUR SONG’. I wonder what it would be. Certainly not something razz. Imagine if he is a huge Terry G fan. No way. He’s looks too polished to be a member of that Noise maker’s clan. He looked more like a Beethoven kind of guy or maybe Nicki Minaj or Lady Gaga… that would be a laugh but who cares? I like Lady gaga… and Nicki Minaj.

He looked over to and smiled as if to tell me “I’m thinking about you too and hoping you are okay.” If that was it then I’m fine, baby. Just ogling at you makes the world feel perfect. I smiled back and he continued with his phone. The elevator stopped again as some people got off and more got in.

My mind began to wander off again. I began to imagine being proposed to in a restaurant just like in the movies. I am a very simple person so the Sharwama restaurant would do just fine or maybe the Eiffel Tower. I’m simple but come on, don’t I deserve a bit of crazy classiness in my life. I am a sucker of PDA and not a lot of men in Nigeria do such. Let him not be one of them, Lord, because me I want kisses under the rain.

The elevator stopped at the fifth floor and the usual exchange occurred. I should have been irritated by these frequent stops but I was entranced by the thoughts of Gorgeous McSexy over here. He looked up from his phone and smiled at me again. I smiled back and looked away so as not to come across as desperate or too interested. I stole a glance at him. He was back to replying his pouring messages. With the frequency at which he has looked up from his phone to smile at me, I was sure he was thinking about me too. Chemistry is definitely booming and boy, do I see some biology in our future.

My mind travelled again carrying with tiny bits of my heart. Married life with him looked blissful with beautiful children running around. Would my dad accept him? That man sef, what or who does he want me to marry? I prayed he was Ibo at least that would calm my mother down a little. The wedding would be grand. No, not grand. I’ve always wanted a small wedding with my future husband over there and our nuclear families. All those ceremonial things that Igbo people indulge in are, in my opinion, absolutely unnecessary. He looked like he would want a boy and girl or maybe two boys and a girl. I just wanted three kids. We would have date nights and steamy Friday nights with interesting role-playing. I’ll dress as a maid or a school girl and he would be my master or school teacher. Oh yeah, whip me with your mighty cane! The kids would be at grandmas or at a sleepover. I smiled sheepishly at myself.

A startling thought crossed my mind. What if married life is not that blissful? What if he is a smoker and alcoholic carefully disguised in this façade of elegance? What if he is just trying to get into my pants like some guys out there, with Sharwama as bait? But I’m not stupid na. Why would I open Nyash for just Sharwama?  What if he was a rapist? Or even a wife-beater? What if he stabbed me and cut me to pieces like some psychopaths in the movies do? Like that Skye bank babe’s husband did recently. Thank God I don’t work in Skye Bank.

Married life didn’t look so blissful anymore. What if he did turn out to be a wife beater and an alcoholic? What if he hurt my kids? Gosh, I would never forgive him for that. What if he turned out to be a cheat? Then the entire marriage would be a huge debacle. The end result would most definitely be a break up that would hurt my kids especially if we have a custody battle. They might end up mentally disturbed and as a result become psychotic serial killers or rapists. I flinched. Men and their devious characters.

BING!

Ground floor.

As we left the elevator, I realized that whatever might happen would start from this lunch date. He got out before me and stood outside waiting for me to step out. He kept on with his phone.

“Shall we?” he said.

I thought about all what had gone through my head in the elevator and hesitated a little. What if he was also thinking the same thing about me?

“Sure”, I said. He smiled again and led the way asking me a bunch of questions as we tried to get more acquainted.

Another thought crossed my mind, With all these good looks he had better be endowed down there and know how to work it. If not we won’t even get past the second date. Second date ko. Next time we are alone in the elevator together he’s going to have to show me, abi camera no dey dey inside Nigerian elevators nah. That one go be test ride and if he don’t know how to hit it na to kick am enter Friend Zone be that.

I grinned at that silly thought. His phone rang. He looked at it and motioned to me to excuse him. I wondered who that could be. He must be a very busy individual considering the amount of time he had spent on his phone in the elevator. I began to really pray that it wasn’t a girl he had been talking to because it would completely shatter my hopes, my dreams and my future Caribbean vacations. He laughed a few times and ended with an “Okay”. He put his phone in his pocket and looked to me with a funny pair of goo-goo eyes. I died for the umpteenth time that day.

“Hope you don’t feel uncomfortable but someone else would be joining us for lunch”

WHAT THE-?! Who is she? Couldn’t he spare me a few hours of mystery and alone time with him before breaking my heart with the sad news of his engagement? Why?!

Who was she anyway? What has she got that he doesn’t see in me? What? Why? Men! I hate men!  Why did he come on to me and ask me out for lunch? Why did he come out looking so good and attractive and polished and…and everything I need in a guy…temporarily or maybe permanently. Curse you! I curse the second that the Suck Ass elevator conductor stopped on your floor and let you in. Why don’t elevators come with ‘Deceptive-guys-scanning-machines’?

I smiled at him softly.

“No I don’t. The more the merrier”

“I love that”

The shop was scanty today. There was a group of Lawyers from the firm across the street having lunch at their table. We sat at a table in the corner which was also close to the window. Nice view for a would-have-been peaceful romantic lunch. The waitress on duty, Maria came and took our orders. I was sure she had flirted with him before with the way her eyes couldn’t stay off him. She was staring at him even when I was giving my order. Like seriously, don’t you know he is taken? Sadly, it was not by me.

He answered his phone again and ended with a “Okay, hurry up.”  We chatted whilst we ate but most of the time my thoughts were filled with possible images of his soon-to-join-us girlfriend. What was she like? Did she exude just as much confidence as he did? Definitely! A powerful looking guy would want a strong woman by his side but I still couldn’t understand why he had asked me to lunch. Every time someone stepped into the shop I tried to steal a glance at the person, especially when they seemed to be stepping in our direction.

After a few minutes, a gentleman walked in. I could tell because I had, like with everyone else, stolen a glance at him when he stepped in. I was sure he was thinking I was crazy with how frequently I had turned back. The gentleman walked towards our table. He was just as dashing as my lover was and is. My face lit up as the guy drew closer because if this was our ‘guest’, it meant he was single. So far, I guess. I felt excited inside, happy and fortunate.

The gentleman sat down next to him.

He looked at me and said, ‘Hey! This is our guest. His name is Mark. We are -’

Mark cut him short…

With a kiss.

“…partners” Mark finished for him.

He smiled and kissed Mark again.

Mark stretched out his hand to shake my hand.

‘Nice to meet you…err…I didn’t get your name?’

I just sat there. Awestruck.

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You’re probably wondering how this could be a love letter, right?

Well, me too… me too.

*smh* *walking away*

Descent

This post is inspired by Nono aka @RealistXX and Thetoolsman.

On her blog yesterday, Nono put up the 3rd installment of So You Think You Can Think where a small portion of a story, usually the conclusion, is put up and readers come up with their own versions of the story. Thetoolsman provided the beginning of the story this time (highlighted in green) and here’s what I came up with

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His eyes fluttered open. The bright bolt of sunlight that flooded the room stung and he quickly closed them. He tried to move his hands towards his eyes to shield them but the pain he felt was excruciating. Some seconds, perhaps minutes passed and not so distant sounds of movement brought him back to the present. He knew he had to move. He had to get up. He had to open his eyes. Using every bout of strength left in him he pushed up from where he had been lying and he opened his eyes, wincing loudly as he did so…

He let his eyes get accustomed to the bright light and took in his surroundings. Well, it looked like there wasn’t much to take in. He was in some sort of great unending white room. What he’d thought were rays of sun was a dazzling glow that radiated from all around. The only memories he had of a place like this was the movies, when a character had died and gone to heaven. Wait! Was this heaven?! It sure didn’t feel like it. But then again, how was he supposed to know how THAT would feel?! Well, for one, there certainly wouldn’t be this much pain in heaven. It would feel a lot more like this morning… Aha! He remembered something. This morning, she’d been making sweet love to his mind. Getting all up in there and doing him like no one else could. Mmmn… now That was heaven. But… That didn’t say anything about how he’d gotten here. Where was here anyways?

As he struggled to his feet, intent on finding some answers, he heard some fluttering sound in the near distance, the same ones he’d heard as he came to, and whirled around to a beautiful sight… Beautiful, honey-golden coloured creatures dropped from above and landed as softly as feathers on the beautiful white in the distance, glistening and glittering in the light. They were of so many different shapes and sizes, and asides their colour and great beauty had something else in common, they looked pretty familiar. Even as he watched, more of them fell out of the sky, fluttering closer and closer to where he stood and he began to make out their physiology, leaving him in wide eyed wonder.

They were words… Her words. The same ones she had used on him this morning. And even as they fell all around him, discovering on closer inspection that they desaturated and darkened as they settled into the white like drops of water into dry soil, he remembered.

He remembered stumbling across her words on what must have been his first peep into this world and how he’d fallen in love with them. How they were so other-worldly and yet he found them so beautiful. How he had longed and longed to visit her world and how he had finally realised that her words were his ticket there. He remembered letting them take him, bring him, here to this world. And it was all bliss.

Until…

Until, a rude shock, turned it to a hell ride. These words, these were not her words! They belonged to another person. A man. They belonged to… TheToolsman! Those words, now beautiful, again ugly, had let him fall, plunge down here to his demise! But some other words had come. They had come and broken his fall, saving him. They had still crashed into the beautiful white ground, leaving him unconscious for a bit and in a great deal of pain, to which he’d just woken, but this he couldn’t ever forget: These words were also beautiful.

But they were not hers… Nor were they TheToolsman’s…

As he looked about him, he realised that yes, he had arrived at her world successfuly, but no, not to her words…

These words, belonged to him, @OlaToxic. And together, they had arrived here in Nono’s world, in her blog.

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For other takes on the story, visit the comment section of So You Think You Can Think 3