I have had a lot of crappy toasters in my life. No kidding. Much respect to you for finding me attractive (incase you read this) but eh....I wish you hadn't.
My toasters ranged from married to single to any other thing in between. Whenever I think I have seen it all, someone more bizarre than the last creeps up. There's nothing on this planet Earth and maybe Mars that you can tell me that would beat what I've seen so far sha.
I could start from my primary and secondary school days but geez, those I would scream no comment about. So let's start from Uni days.
First year! It was all about books and first class....okay...truth be told, nobody saw me. I was so weird and foolish. Really young and naive, almost too young to be in the university. My fashion sense made that really obvious. I did the most irritating things, had the most foolish thoughts, laughed with myself...and my small stature didn't help at all. I was always smaller than my age.
Year two opened up the ocean of boys, all forms of them. People I didn't know called my phone, introduced themselves (and sometimes introduced me to me). It freaked me out to tears and I wondered what the madness was. And out of the whole lot, I chose one - Elozona. He was amazing, still is. Cute face, breathtaking body, voice to die for, Baptist, got all the values my mum would cherish and was, still is soooooo Igbo. Choi! He was so much of an Igbo boy. It was so bad that whenever he said he wanted to come visit me, I'd run downstairs and quickly whisk him very far away from school and my friends. If you heard the way he said 'nna eh' repeatedly like his lineage depended on it. Right before every statement, he would ask 'you understand?'. ( in the thickest Igbo accent you ever heard) What am I understanding when you haven't said anything? But he broke the deal when he visited school without saying he was. How he found out my room number I don't know (I thought I hid it from him well enough). We had all come back from lectures and as most girls normally do, we all undressed and lay down to take in the beautiful breeze and from the doorway someone said "Kpai Kpai Kpai" (Knock Knock Knock) We all lowered our voices so we could hear better and...."Kpai Kpai Kpai" I was the first to laugh out. Who says Kpai Kpai Kpai in this era and time? Knock on the freaking door na, its not fragile. It must be the guy that buys water for us but when did he start saying "Kpai Kpai Kpai"? My room mate closest to the door was just about to go see who the person was when he opened the door and walked in gallantly. AH! It was Elozona! We were all naked. Where could one even hide in this small room? Inside our buckets? We all lay naked looking at him and he walked out the same way he did...but less gallantly. For almost a year, my room mates didn't let me hear the end of it.
Another one came along. Can't remember his name, not sure I ever knew it. He called from the beginning of the semester till the end and I kept posting him. For one, I dunno where he got my number from. Finally, when the semester was almost ending, I gave in and accepted to see him (babe don broke die). I brilliantly chose a restaurant in school right outside my hostel, told my room mates where I was going, wrote his number down for them and with the agreement that I'd buy them some food, I went to see him. At matice (uniben branch) I met no one but a beggar, I think. If only I had money on me I would have bought food for him. I pitied him but couldn't do anything for him. Maybe when the chyker I was waiting for comes, he could help. I sat and called him to ask where he was and as his caller ringtone went off on my ear, the beggar's phone starting ringing. I quickly ended the call and the beggar's phone stopped ringing. WOW!!! I still sat and watched in horror as the beggar walked to my table and sat beside me. WOW!! He said hello with his eyes shot red like he had been smoking. Can't remember if I replied or not. I was too traumatized. Against my better judgement to run away, I still sat. For making me leave my room, he had to buy me food at least. He said hello again and this time I replied with a smile. He then asked me what I would like to take. Ehen! Now he was talking.
"White rice, chicken pepper soup and a bottle of coke", I replied.
He looked at me a little confused. Ah ah! Is it that he didn't know what rice was or what? He then searched through all his pockets (back and breast pockets inclusive), looked towards the ceiling and then asked, "Do you care for snacks?"
I used all my strength to stop myself from laughing. With a smile still, I told him that snacks would do.
"What snacks?", he asked
"One meat pie and one doughnut with a bottle of coke", I replied
He then ordered for just one doughnut. No drink! No meat pie!
I told the waiter to add meat pie and drink but he said otherwise after which he whispered to me that he cold not afford it. I pinched myself to be sure that this was really happening. Oh yes! It was! Let's analyse this.
Even in my brokeness, I could afford a snack and a drink. I ordered what I wanted and sat to listen to what he had to say. Maybe this was one of those stories we heard that guys disguise themselves as poor people so as to marry a girl that loved them for who they were and not what they had. Before I could even offer him, he took the meat pie and ate it. Hian! Nothing in my life had ever tried my patience that much.
He then started a story of how he was a final year Medicine and Surgery student...how he sold recharge cards...but then, he had a girlfriend who helped him sell the recharge cards...and then they broke up...and now his business was suffering because they broke up...and how he needed a girlfriend who would sell recharge cards for him the way his ex-girlfriend did. I understood the story but I did not understand what it had to do with me. For a minute or so, he stopped talking and I guessed the story had ended. In my plight to be kind, I asked if he had found this girlfriend, the one that would replace the one that left. He beamed with a smile and said, "You are the special one".
At that moment, I quickly swallowed my doughnut so I didn't spit it out, raised my head up and laughed out really loud. Maybe he was just coming out from a psychiatric ward. The serious look on his face made me laugh the more. After I was done laughing, the anger set in. I stood up and left before I slapped him to sanity. In my room, I sat and played out all the scenerio of me selling recharge cards in front of the hostel in my head. (I don really suffer)
The madness continued. My room mate kept telling me of her very wonderful cousin. If she sold things the same way she sold her cousin to me, she would be a millionaire. I gave in and asked to see him. After we exchanged pleasantries, he offered that we go to his house. Na wa o. Just like that? He must have seen the look on my face cos he went on to tell me how his house is cozy, comfortable with a big kitchen. How he has a cook bla bla bla! I didn't hear him say he'll move out so I can move in. I declined nicely. He then opened his smelly mouth and asked, "How is it down there?" And I'm like, huh???? Down gini?
"I mean how is it down there?". This he said with his eyes pointed towards my legs. I didn't understand.
"Is it pink or red?", he asked, this time with a lowered voice
I still didn't understand.
"Your... Your stuff...Is it pink or red?"
It then dawned on me what the crap was saying. Seriously? Seriously? Did he just ask me that. C'mon dude. I quietly asked him to leave my room and he did without any argument. I put my anger under control until my room mate, the adviser of the product, came back from wherever she went. What happened in the room would be a story for another day.
Married men came, more appalling people came...I freaked out, freaked out again and I am still freaking out. But then when a girl tells you who she rejects, she would never tell you who she accepts.
