February is regarded by all females as the month of Love (Male Spending), the males could care less as to what February symbolizes’. For several females, it is a month even more important than the birthday of their Lord (heretics). It is a month that has them turning on their best behavior in the hopes that their tooth fairy (Boyfriend/ATM Machine/Sugar&Baby Dada etc) delivers. Typical mentality states that it is up to the man to rise up to the occasion and spend heavily on the woman. Thus Valentine’s Day evolved into a day not just for celebrating love but also for the launching of cheque-book sheets. Reminds me of my final year in UNILAG when at 09:58pm on February 14 a “tear rubber” jeep arrived the premises of the infamous Moremi hall, all the Single ladies and babes with broke boy-friends went into a frenzy as their wailing and jealous howls could be heard in distant countries. The recipient of the jeep was celebrated for weeks and her death secretly plotted by many.
This Valentine Day started out on a semi-funny tone. Semi-funny because it dragged me out of bed…early. No, this tale does not involve me.
Around too-early-AM I was rudely awakened from my slumber by my phone’s irritating ringtone. The caller was a buddy- Kuli. He had sent a couple of gifts to his girlfriend but was routing it through my house. I was to receive, repackage (huh??) and hand the package to the driver who would then deliver it to said girlfriend.
Everything living knows it is suicide to wake me up from sleep (everyone except said buddy and MTN for putting the call through) and for a reason like this, I was sure I was going to go thermonuclear…if I could find the strength to nag. The call had barely ended and my brain registered that someone wanted me to get off my bed to assist his love-life when my phone rang again and Kuli said that the delivery girl for the cake handedd his cake to the wrong person and that the woman had put the cake in her car and zoomed off. Yes, I wanted to laugh. Seriously, WTF?
“So let me get this straight”, I muttered into my phone, “you had a delivery girl coming to my house to drop off cake and stuff; you gave her my name but not my number, described my building and sent her on her merry way? She couldn’t find me so she dropped the delivery with a neighbor who took it away?
“I don’t understand o! I know I am stressing you but please help me out na, abeg” he replied.
He sounded flustered and conveniently forgot that I asked why he was sending someone to me without given the person my number. An evil part of me wanted to end the call and go back to sleep after all he would be getting some tonight-so long as the cake was found. There was no helping it, when a distraught friend calls you to play Valentine Godfather, you dawn your cape and rise to the occasion….even if your body is unwashed and the dream of you strip dancing to a screaming mob of rich ladies still lingers in your consciousness. So I got out of bed to go find delivery girl. I found her with little effort with a neighbor and there I got the entire confused story. Delivery girl could not find me so she asked a neighbor for Zibah and the neighbor took her to the flat of a woman who also has a child called Zib. The lady called her sister-in-law who stays in the same apartment building with her and handed her the cake seeing as the sister-in-law’s husband (her brother) is my bud’s namesake. After-all the cake was to be received by a Zibah and was sent by a Kuli. The woman conveniently forgot that the cake was to be received by a Zibah and while her child bears the same name, said child was still learning how to walk not to mention female.
You see how I got very confused? I understand how Nigerian men tend to kill romance in marriages after the wedding but it gives no wife the right to console herself by getting all confused and believing her infant female child was sent a cake by a husband she saw in the morning on Valentine’s day. You feel me?
Long and short, I dragged Delivery Girl into a cab, we tracked Confused Valentine Wife to her baby store, and we retrieved the cake from her staff. I had the cab drop off Delivery Girl, I arranged Valentine package and a love note which Kuli expressly requested I staple on a wrapped parcel and not read the content. I had already read it by then; honestly it never occurred to me not to read it. I arrived at Girlfriend’s house and had the babe practically exploding with joy while some rangly youth in the neighborhood looked on. Girlfriend offered me meat?? which I refused with the excuse that I had not err…brushed my teeth. Made my way to the cab and hightailed it home.
My actions today have ensured that someone would ‘get some’ aggressively and violently tonight. If there is any justice in this world, then nature should arrange to get me some too…aggressively and violently of course. *chuckles*
PS: The above is a true story. The names of everyone in the above narration was altered, reason? I’m sorry but I know not.