Saturday, December 26, 2015

A Date With Wendy Williams (Story by Fiziedeen)

How about a lil something totally unrelated to Christmas? Have a good read, good people!

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*Read first two sentences in Falz' voice*
So the hurda day, hi say that hoekay, lemme tour the city heylittle. At least if someone dad haf travel out of the city and leave the car with a filled tank hin this period of fuel scarcity, no need for too much staying one place.
I had just one problem: where exactly to go. I ain't much of a wakadugbe. Growing up, dad steady ties the proverbial chain around our necks. You obviously can't go out when he's around. When he isn't, he calls at intervals, say every 30minutes, to make sure we're all home. If he calls you and hits you with the "where are you" line, he still won't be satisfied with your "i'm home" answer. He'll go as far as asking you to give Divine the phone to talk to her. Divine was our little girl then (notice i'm talking in past tense? The babe don grow now, don dey reject calls). He assumes that she never leaves the house, so if talks to her with your phone, he's convinced that you're home.

I digress too much, my bad. If I remember correctly, I was saying I don't really go out. I went ahead to explain why. So there I was that day, home alone, wondering where exactly in the city to drive to; who to visit. My pick would have been David's crib, but that one has turned a new leaf. Anytime you call him, he'll start telling stories that don't touch, about how he's having problems with his dad, how his uncle's assistant side chick had an accident and broke her iphone casing, so he can't take visitors. Before before, the David I knew use to be a cheerful nigga, always happy to see bros. If you enter him crib, you never even commot shoe finish, David don bring SK, put for centre table. And you know he who brings SK, brings life. He doesn't even stop at getting us stoned, he always seemed to have ready-made rice and stew and plantain close by. I don't know how he does it. A friend that gets you stoned, has Fifa 15 and gives you rice and plantain afterwards, is definitely more than a friend. He's bro. But all that one don turn history; David don change. I get am before no be property. I don't really blame him sha. He's been having problems with admission. Was in UNN, dropped out for reasons he hasn't told me before. Later got admission to Landmark university, dropped out again - this time, just after first year. I nor know which kind winch been dey do am. His village people must have held several round table meetings, with coloured photocopies of his CV on everyone's hand. Now he's just at home, steady sad and sober, looking for admission. Wey be say some of us don graduate, don serve finish, don even forget say we go school sef. I don't mean to brag or rejoice that my friend is still seeking admission sha, afterall the school wey I go sef, na 3rd class I carry graduate *play sorrowful Naija theme song here, like the one in the legendary Last Burial movie*

Well, as I was saying, David's house wasn't an option anymore. Picked up my phone and scrolled through my long contact list on BBM. Had over 400 contacts, though i'm not so sure I actually know up to 100 of them in person. How I steadily have so much contacts on BBM is pedantry. Anyhow, I pinged Wendy. Wendy Williams, as I love to call her. We've been online friends for over 2 years. We both live in the same city, but we've never seen. I pinged her and asked her if she wants me to come over, she said yes. I thought that'd be the day we'd get to see finally, but fate had other plans. She sha gave me address - somewhere in Old GRA, Forces avenue or so. I never drive motor go that side before, I nor too sabi that area. But that's not a problem. Person wey dey ask nor dey lost. Na so i rush go bath, fresh up, rock my polo wey I buy from Jumia some 2 months back. That polo, I no dey wear am anyhow. I wear it only when i'm going out to break hearts. After several intense lips-licking sessions, I took one final look in the mirror, then i hit the road my people. I was feeling fresher than a motherfucker. You know that 3G feeling? Like when your phone, laptop and power bank are all 100 percent charged, so you feel ready for whatever life wants to throw at you? Ehen, it's something close to that. I hit the fucking road.

E no too tey, I reach Old GRA. No plenty hold up that day. Problem now, was how to get to Forces avenue. I stopped to ask someone; one devil-sent individual. Instead of the idiot to tell me say e no know the road, say make I ask another person, no. E describe nonsense for me: if you go straight, take left. Drive small, take another left, then take one final right and you'll be in Forces avenue. Well, it sounded Legit, so I thanked him and drove off. I followed his description, made the turns and saw myself heading to mile1 junction. I was weak bro, too weak! Worse still, some police men were a few metres in front of me, and were motioning for me to stop. Why? Wetin I do? Na that year wey I been never get drivers license, na him police sabi stop me. Ever since I got my license, they stopped stopping me. E just be like say them dey use jazz. Well, I was with my license, and the particulars of the car were all intact. So, feeling untouchable, I rolled down the car window, and with the confidence of Vic-O, I asked "Yes Officer, can I help you?". The man laughed sarcastically and replied "no, na us wan help you". I still didn't get the picture. "You be learner? You no know say this road wey you come out from na one way? You no dey read road signs?" That was when the joke fell flat. You know all these Naija police and road safety. Once you enter their trap, e don be for you. I was still trying to connect the pipe that allows words flow from brain to mouth. I never even talk one or two, one of them don rush enter my motor. I tried to plead with them: "Oga, make una no vex abeg, I no know say that road na one way. Na person direct me". My pleas fell on deaf ears. They hit me with their legendary "you'll explain better when we get to the station" line. I know too much, to fall for that. E better make you see how you go iron things out with them for there, because if you follow them reach station, you'll pay four times of what you'd have paid. E no get the kind beg wey I no beg that day.

To cut the long story short, I parted ways with the 5k I had in my wallet, that's after they wasted more than one hour of my time. Wasn't a nice experience I tell you. After everything, them come ask me where I say I dey go again. Told them i'm trying to locate Forces Avenue. I wasn't so sure I still wanted to go see Wendy. A larger part of me wanted to just drive home and cry my heart out, but make all this time, money, energy and fuel for no just waste like that, I still decided on seeing her. The policemen gave me the right description, and off I drove. Got to her gate in less than 5minutes, then I called her to tell her i'm outside. Wetin I go hear? "Sorry, I went out with a friend. Thought you were not coming again. Let's see some other time please".......................

Compliments of the season. Share this please. Drop a comment if you can, too

DISCLAIMER: This is purely fictional. I have no friend called David or Wendy. Any resemblance to actual humans is purely coincidental.

Here are some of Fiziedeen's previous writeups:

Why I Hate Messi

Friendzone and How I Landed In UNN

All na Packaging

P.S.A: The One That Got Away

Why I Slept With Ini Edo

Penis Size and Premature Election

'Johnny', Fiziedeen's Response To Yemi's Allegations

Twitter - @Fiziedeen
Instagram - @Fiziedeen

8 comments:

  1. My guy u don fall my hand, how will the son of an RSM in the Nigerian army be intimidated by mere mortal police men. Anyway sha nice write up...shout to my sweet divine with her new assets...i've got some SKolanut for you sha...visiting soon bro

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  2. Hahahahaha fizzie no go kill person ... .Nice one!

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  3. Lolz... fizie my man!! Over try dey worry u shaa.. kip d gud work going bro.. bless up!

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  4. Fiziedeen The Dean of The Faculty of Fictional Stories... Lol. I hail thee!

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