So … its another 14th of February and Cupid is going in search of more hearts to tend. The ritual has been on for many years, and some even have the odacity to attribute it to some Godly monk or priest called valentine. Not wanting to be left behind, I decided to take a big bold step and ask Chisom, the smiling lady at my friendly bank out for dinner today, in celebration of the age-long tradition.
I chose a secluded restaurant with very good service. Being discrete is the name of the game. Reservations made and table booked, I spent the greater part of the day working through the net, searching for the perfect gift in the very many online stores that specialize in seasonal gifts. Finally, I settled for something that looked cheeky and perfect … some device called …. the Infatuator.
For new found loves, the tendency to spend more time on the phone is very high. Frequent calls and longer talk time. As described in the manual, the Infatuator is supposed to analyze the frequency and call duration, and warn you that the love is on the wane, when the rates begin to fall, as they do on wall street. I thought it was Ironic that I was getting her this type of gift, from the starting block, but then … this is a seasonal thing … isn’t it?
I left the office quite early, making a bee line towards the rendezvouz. Pickup was smooth and I opened discussions aby asking how was the day. Just as I inched towards the popular 411 on Awolowo, the hold-up was unbelievable. So … many folks closed early too.. The traffic was crawling and my impatience grew.
Ten, twenty, thirty and longer minutes. I apologized to her, noting that the traffic today is unprecedented. “sorry darling, nothing will spoil the outlined fun today”. As I made to maneuver between two vehicles, I felt a gentle thud from the rear, and I knew I have been hit. Just as I was about to say “Darling … sorry I will have to give it to these impatient folks”. I got hit again.
Livid with rage, I went out of the vehicle to confront my aggressor. Tailing me was a very beautiful Lady, who I instantly recognized as my wife. As I made to mutter an excuse, I … oops I mean the car … got hit again.
I dashed back into the car with a “Chisom, … Lets get the hell out of here”, and missed my steppings.
I woke up! There was my wife really asking …. “SF, Who is Chisom?? and don’t you dare tell me you have been dreaming again!!”
Damned … why do I always get caught?, even in my dreams??
Happy Valentine to all you truly eligibles, and of course … ineligible folks who have perfected the art and don’t get caught.