The argument was intense, it lasted about 90 minutes, time I should have invested in the just concluded Chelsea match. This however was one topic very dear to my heart.
Tayo had told me about his friend who cried because his babe threatened to leave him. Half interested, I answered with “how I go dey cry for babe when dem no dey do me”. I did not know I was lighting his fuse. I was surprised by his reaction. His temper flared and he started ranting, calling me names.
Calming him down, I explained how I just could not imagine myself sulking over some babe. “I be sure boy nah, all these babes no worth make i pour water from my cup talk less of letting a tear roll down my cheek”.
We had gone on and on, my opponent’s strong point being I never give room for love, so I wouldn’t know how it feels. After all was said and maybe not done, Tayo said “you go jam your own soon”. I laughed hysterically, the kind that has the “ROTFL” emoticon in a chat situation. Teasing him, I said “only your kid sister can make me cry”.
He flung the remote in my direction and we laughed. Truth be told though, his sister was done and dusted later that night.
It was a cold night, barely 2 weeks after the argument and I was up for no reason. You know one of those nights when your eyelids just refuse to get shut. I decided to find solace on Twitter and as fate would have it the first tweet I read was “anyone up? I’m bored”.
My signature evil grin came up once I clicked the avi and saw a cute babe’s picture, it wouldn’t be a boring night after all. After responding to the tweet, I subsequently transferred the gist to DM. She did not ‘dull’ me.
We had gone on and on that night till someone’s battery went flat, I can’t remember whose but I remember vividly that I had a smile on my face when I finally surrendered to sleep. “This one shouldn’t take more than one week to kill”, I thought as I drifted off to dreamland.
After 3 days, we set up a meeting. My one week target was firmly in mind. I had cleverly picked a spot under a tree close to the library where I was to meet her. My patience was wearing off after about 30 minutes of searching through the faces going in and out of the library. Nostalgia crept in at that instant. I started remembering how bad I had missed school days and the unquantifiable conquests in the p-setting business. The library was one of the most fertile grounds to set the P 😉
One of the rules of the blind date game is “never judge the person you’re coming to see with the picture you’ve seen”.
“If this babe no fine, na to discharge am straight. The not so good-looking ‘Eves’, who wicked people call ‘ugly’, sure know how to pin one down”.
I was brought back from my reverie when a certain voice said “Hey, you must be Mr. Twitter”. I turned around to register my displeasure with the stranger, instead my jaw dropped. You know how it is when words get stuck in your throat when you finally meet your favorite celebrity in person…I was star-struck!
Truth be told she wasn’t the most beautiful girl I have met, I just could not quite place what it was about her that muted me.
Swallowing hard, I found my voice and muttered “Hi, yeah I am…not Mr. Twitter though, I’m me”. I was blabbing, the well rehearsed lines had flown away and I just could not seem to find my groove. I choked big time. She bailed me out and took over.
“I’d rather call you Mr. Twitter, call me whatever you like”. I had regained my composure by then. She paused and I said “Anything?”.
Her response was swift, “Anything”, she affirmed. From nowhere the name came and I called her “Órékélęwa”.