Friday, March 23, 2012

The [D] Project: This is [D] (pt. 2 of 13)




I called [D] on the phone with one purpose and that was to fix a time we could meet. What I knew about her wasn’t much. I knew she was posted to Lagos camp for NYSC orientation. I knew she wasn’t based in Lagos, I knew she needed accommodation, and there was a possibility she could stay over at my place for a few days. That was why I needed to see her, hear her talk, and observe some non-verbal cues. I needed to put my sixth sense to the test to determine if I should go ahead with the arrangement. Fact is I don’t trust females [easily] and I have a simple rule; honesty for females does not come out from their mouth. A question I needed an answer to was where she stayed for over a month, which was from the day she passed out of orientation camp to the point she realised she needed accommodation. I needed an explanation; either she stayed in a hotel or...wherever. If I was satisfied after the end of our conversation she could move in over the weekend but there was a condition attached, a condition she would have to agree to.

The phone rang for a while before she answered. I introduced myself like I always do, “This is Adeshina Babatunde...” She said she was expecting my call. It took a while before she said, “You sound feminine”. I told her I was expecting that. I’ve lost count of the number of times people said I sound feminine [some admit it was sexy though]. I asked to know when she would be free to come over to my place for us to meet. She replied she was available the following day and would come over. That was cool with me because it was a public holiday, Wednesday 31st of August 2011, the day after Eid celebration.

The next day, [D] called [several times] because she got lost on her way to my place. That supported her claim she wasn’t based in Lagos. After constantly buzzing my phone with "I'm lost...I don't know where I am" I suggested she stayed where she was so I would come pick her up from there. As ‘faith’ would have it she found herself stranded in front of a Mr. Biggs restaurant close to my place. Her location was perfect for my intent, meeting her at a neutral place was waaaaay better than inviting her to my crib when I knew there was a possibility I would tell her the arrangement wasn’t possible. I could even walk in/out of the place if I didn’t find her attractive without her knowing I was the person she had been calling.

30 minutes later I stepped into the fast food restaurant and spotted her immediately. She had to be the one in the virtually empty joint. She sat in a chair close to the entrance with two bags on the floor. Two school bags stuffed with more than enough items to make them look like camping bags. I guessed they had to be clothes and stuffs but why she did carry them? I remembered our previous discussion did not include her moving in on that day. All I requested for was an opportunity for us to meet.

I walked closer and introduced myself. She did not wait for me to occupy the chair at the other end of the table before she got on her feet. She said, “Let’s go” like I had delayed her. Before I could stop her she was already out of the door. Do you want to know what she looked like? Of course you do. She looked like SEX. Don’t misunderstand that as being fucking beautiful. All I’m saying was she had that appearance and physical attribute a [typical] guy saw and what came next was the thought of fucking her. Forget about the colour of her eyes, shape of her nose, and all those attributes other writers might bore you with. Just imagine SEX.

She was out of the building waiting for me while I thought about how to stick with the intention I came with. I had a strange feeling this babe would definitely want to spend the night [or two more], she came prepared. My sixth sense told me “Ade, now was the time to back out. Get out, take a bike and go home. No one was indispensable and she would definitely find somewhere else to stay”. I kept staring at her through the glass wall. Her ass view was like, “Guy, don’t tell me you don’t want to take this home”. Yea, she had ASS she looked like SEX, fuck it. If she was going to stay I had a condition attached which I was yet to discuss. Due to circumstances beyond my control, the only available place for her to stay was in Stamford Bridge. She would have to stay under the same roof, in the same bed with me. With what I saw it seemed the condition I had for her was now up to me to make a choice. I asked myself, ‘Can I stay under the same roof, in the same bed with her in Stamford Bridge? Where more matches were won than lost.

Part 3: Adventure of a Homeless Girl 
Part 4: You Can Only Lie With Words 
Part 5: Some People Don't Want To Be Happy 
Part 6: Our Skin, Our History 
Part 7: Pot Calling Kettle Black 
Part 8: Will You Marry You? 
Part 9: The Date 
Part 10: Time To Go 
Part 11: REALLY, Time To Go 
Part 12: You Can't Please Anyone

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