This a brand new series which will continually be featured on GISTville. Read the very first episode of the Lagos babe tale below….
Episode 1: SEE GOBE!!!
See gobe o!!! Who goes for an interview and forgets their CV? Me! Ajoke Ade Omoshalewa Benson, I forgot my CV. â€˜Have been trying to figure out how to ask this front desk personnel to help me out with the printing.
I put on my winning smile and made my way to approach her. She looked up from her computer screen and asked almost immediately â€œcan I help you?â€ she smiled.
Yes, please! Can you kindly assist in helping me print out my CV?
â€œSure, just give me your USBâ€
I swallowed and cleared my throat even though there was no traces of phlegm â€œehm, I actually need to access my mail to print itâ€
She rolled her eyes.
â€œThe thing is, I do not have access to the internet, I work with the intranetâ€.
â€œHow about I send it to your email and you assist me in printing it out?â€
That was how she saved the day o. chai!!! I would have looked stupid in front of the recruiters.
I sized up all the other candidates, won o ni logo jare!! Â This job was mine. I was tired of sitting at home and adding on weight. My room was filled with every Tuesday and Thursday Guardian newspaper Â had published since the beginning of the year.
There was this air of confidence around me that made me feel like this was it.
The coordinator for the interview signaled me to follow her. My heart skipped a beat as I followed her into the conference room. He was the first person I saw, looking so hot in his black suit and black bow tie. I almost missed a step as I took a seat. Oh my God! Holy Mary!!! Please! Please! Donâ€™t let him recognize me, please donâ€™tâ€¦.
I stole a quick look at him. I was not sure he even noticed anyone walked in. he was busy talking to his colleagues . i looked down at my shoes and kept on praying in my heart he wouldnâ€™t recognize me.
When you have some very adventurous friends in your life then you are bound to go troubleshooting once in a while. Let me rephrase that, young, vibrant, highly social and adventurous friends.
Jeje mi ni mo joko oÂ (meaning: I was lazing around in my motherâ€™s 4 bedroom bungalow, wearing my bum short, loungingÂ in front of our 42 inches television with a medium bowl of ice-cream from coldstoneÂ ) when Â Omoyeni and Omotunde gave me a ring. They were on their way to my house from work. There was a new club in Lagos and I had to go look it up with them. I wanted to decline, I should have declined, but I was bored stiff from sitting at home. DSTV was rubbish, they kept on repeating movies, music was starting to make my eardrum sore and I had eaten 4 times before evening. There was no declining a night of fun so yeah, I decided to tag along.
Good thing, I was the only one at home. My mum and sisters had gone to Dubai for the holiday; at least they all had jobs.
I got up from the 3 seater where I was coiled and dragged my feet into my room. I picked out a short blue dress, a black shoe and a matching bag. It was time for a little grooving.
We left for the club in Omoyeniâ€™s newly procured avensis. This was after they had rummaged through my clothing and helped themselves to the party clothes they were able to find. Rock and return, it was our thing since University days; this was all in the excuse of they couldnâ€™t go home to change.Thank their stars we all wear UK size 8! friendship made from heaven I guess.
We got to the club and Olamideâ€™s new single was blasting in the air. Omoyeni dragged us to the bar and ordered a bottle of red wine.
â€œYou know I donâ€™t drink Omoyeniâ€ I eyed her suspiciously
â€œMadam, loosen up and have some fun jare, you only live onceâ€ she screamed.
â€œShalewa omo mummyâ€ Omotunde added.
Another weird thing, we all had the prefix â€˜omoâ€™ before our names.
I drank and kept drinking. I needed to have fun. I wanted to have fun. I looked around the club and my eyes locked with a tall handsome young man staring at me. I looked away shyly.
I whispered to the girls.
â€œStaring dude, 4 Oâ€™ clock.
They waited for a while and both took a quick peep.
â€œCute!! Omoyeni shouted, even though I was sitted right beside her. I smiled sheepisly. I could feel the alcohol in my system. Minutes later we were on the dance floor rocking to Chuddy Kâ€™s â€˜Gaga Crazyâ€™. I was having â€˜mad funâ€™. I was singing aloud and dancing my own version of azonto when I felt someone hold my waist from behind.
I turned to look at who that was and it turned out to be the tall cute dude. I kept dancing and turned to face him. He was very handsome. He smiled and nodded his head as though he was saying hello. I smiled back stupidly. Walahi! It wasnâ€™t me o, it was the alcohol. Omotunde had found herself a guy to dance with, I looked around in my almost drunken state for Omoyeni, she was at the bar buying another bottle of wine. Mini brewery, that was her middle name; she can drink for the olympics.
I tried not to laugh at this cute dudeâ€™s dance moves. Donâ€™t know if it was the alcohol or if he really was dancing like a penguin.
He said something I couldnâ€™t make out.
What?! I shouted
â€œMy name is Femiâ€
Oh well!!! I moved closer to him, turned my back in such a way he could hold me from behind and I kept dancing, only this time my steps were naughty. Donâ€™t judge! It was the alcohol. I was beginning to feel sick like I was going to throw up. Chai! Omotunde was a bad influence,wahalahi! My head was spinning. I tried to relax in Femiâ€™s embrace. He turned me around and I almost had my head on his shoulder. I still donâ€™t get it o. The song was not slow,yet we were slow dancing. I could hear his heartbeat,it was a beautiful rythym. Wait! If the music was loud, how come I could hear his heartbeat? I think â€˜am drunk.
He held me in an embrace and tried to move with me. I still think he danced like a penguin sha! Alcohol or no alcohol.
I was about to tell him my name when Omotunde came to spoil the show. She told me it was time to go. Femi released me a little and tried to study my face. I was trying to pull out of his embrace when it happened.
[author ]Omoshalewa Benson: Tales of a lagos Babe is written by Bella (@Tobiagoro).Creative mind. Writer. Art Lover. Music lover. Weird. She’s the owner of www.brownbells.com[/author]