It was like any other Monday in Lagos, it was 8:45am and as usual I was late. Now I don’t mind being late on most occasions but today was different. Today I had a huge withdrawal at the bank and I had to be there at 9.15 exactly, for the security transportation waiting at the bank.
It’s not every day such trivial errands are forced upon me, no not at all, but my beloved asshole of a husband had decided that I was getting too used to the doing nothing life style. “Your problem, Tabbi, is that you’re a fucking lazy bitch! Your father is to blame for that. Things are going to change around here.” he bellowed stuffing shrimps into his mouth, “you’ll at least withdraw the fucking money to buy your new fucking car if that’s what you want”.
I never understood why or what has turned my sweet fucker into such a cunt; lately he whines and complains like one. I’ve been so tempted to just get out of the house and go find a real man to fuck…just for the heck of it! There are at least six cars in the house and none of them are any good to me this morning because the gridlock would be impenetrable, except of course you happen to own a motorbike.
This morning I’m in a pair of Levi’s and a white Cavali cotton shirt, which does absolutely nothing to control these 36DD’s. The heat is so bad, I can feel it down my crotch already. The gate man greets me and asks if madam wants the gates opened and I shake my head. I like him, the gateman I mean; he’s an elderly Hausa man with tobacco stained teeth and he gets my shit for me…the good stuff! besides, he used to work for daddy and he’s loyal.
As I step outside the gate, a bike zooms past and I whistle for it. He turned around and looked at me in shock. “Take me to First Bank quick,” I say climbing on and his mouth is still open as he stares at my bra-less boobs. suddenly catching himself, he stutters “That will be 3oo Niara o!” I ignore him and sit there, after a minute or so, he takes off.
Thank God for bikes, at least I get some air at last. He reeks of dirt, sweat and stale food, but he was a good looking young man, not more than 25, just my age. I begin to get angry, then I stopped, not today; today was too special and important to blow on anger. I had bigger and better plans, I want that fucker I married to know that I do what I want, anytime and on my terms. It’s 9:00am now and we just about made it through the police check point. I’m relaxed, the bank is another block and half, we should do that in less than fifteen.
There’s something straddling a bike does to a girl, okay maybe girls like me…it massages the puss and gets you horny; which is what I just did to myself and I’m pissed because It means being nice to that fucker so I can get a fix.
“We don reach” that was the bike guy, I hand him a 500 and wait for my change. He fumbles a little and eventually hands me a 200, which I give back to him. He smiles and I walk towards the door. I notice the security van parked in the yard, “Great” I say to myself, I’ll give it over and rush home to get laid; that’s if I’m lucky and Fucker is still in the house.
I feel all their eyes on me, men, women and children as I stroll into the bank. They must all be thinking look at that whore! Who cares what the morons think, they don’t know me. The bank is cool, its a welcome change. I look around for the manager, she said she would be in the lobby waiting for me.
She’s not here, so I sit down. It’s 9:25 now and I’m still waiting; then my phone vibrates. It’s a text from the manager. Apologies for the lateness, she’ll be with me in 30 minutes. Oh wtf…I may as well get a smoke, so I get up to go, fumbling in my purse for a ciggy. Next thing I know, there is a sharp pain on my boobs and I’m on the floor. I think I was dazed for a minute or so, and my eye hurt…the left one. My white Cavali is covered in blood, I’m having a nose bleed as well. oh wtff?
I see his feet first, they are huge and beautifully manicured. Flip flops, polo ones; blue and red. Then I feel his cheek on my face, a slight stubble and he smells nice…um, creed I think.
“I’m so sorry, please let me help you up.” Deep voice, crisp; educated. “Are you okay? You’re still bleeding.”
I’m okay now, but to my horror, a button or two popped and my boobs are almost out. Hands shoot up to cover them but he beats me to it. Next thing his shirt is off, something linen and white; and he drapes it over me. I stare at him, hunk of a man! beautiful specimen, the Calvin singlet clung like a second skin to him, I could not stoop looking.
A hanky pressed to my nose and the small crowd dispersed. I’m sitting and he’s kneeling in front of me, worry lines on his forehead and still wondering if am good. I see him properly now, he’s dark, not like my fucker and he’s not a pretty boy either. He’s rugged; clean shaven head, ebony black and chiseled face. I smile and speak for the first time “sorry I didn’t see you,and thanks for the shirt, I’ll be fine now.”
He looks a little relieved but still insists that I sit down. I try to get up but can’t, I still feel a little dizzy.
“You must sit back, I think you may have a concussion…here, how many fingers do you see? I look at him and see four, so I say “four”. He smiles; beautiful smile and teeth, a little gap in the middle.”You are fine, but sit down still, what do you want done, I’ll take care of it for you. Don’t worry he said with a laugh, the security is here and I promise I’ll not rob you after just knocking you out.”
“I’m afraid that’s out of the question, but thanks, you are too kind!” I see the manager approaching and an I get up successfully this time. My party is here, what do I do now, I still have your shirt?
He takes out his wallet and gives me a card, beautiful hands, rough looking but perfectly manicured and clean. He scribbles on it and says “Here, you can return it if you want and I’ll buy you lunch.” He stares at my boobs and his nostrils flare. I lick my lips, my mouth felt dry. As I take the card our hands touch, I freeze. He breaths hard and my knees feel weak, I quickly retract my hands and tell him I will send his shirt, as I reach for my purse to put the card away, he sees Fucker’s 3 carats and he smiles again.
“I’ll see you soon, be safe now.”
As I look towards the manager, he walks to a teller and I go to the back vault for that withdrawal.