I met Ayan seven years ago. Great guy he is. Just when
we began to get serious with our friend versus relationship, his
dad whisked him off to the States to major in Home
Economics.
The first few months, we tried our possible best to keep
in touch but albeit, distance is really an enemy . The
different time zones coupled with the expensive call
rates made phone calls a cumbersome task.
Five years ago, when I realised I am that1997chick
without a boyfriend , I decided to give the friendship with
Ayan a go once again. Calling him was a huge mistake.
Ayan had downloaded the thickest American accent.
Even George Bush would have had to strain his ears to
pick his words out. All I kept saying was ‘yes’ and
‘okay’ while poor Ayan kept freestyling in his new found
American accent. I had to swallow panadol immediately
I dropped the call.
I never bothered to pick his phone calls which came
quarterly until last week. Ayan was back in Nigeria and
he suggested we hook up. I was in high spirits. He was
in Abuja. I was in Lagos. The agreement was he’s going
to travel down to my place and spend a night or two.
That was fine by me.
Evening of the d-day he was knocking at my door. One
of those macho arms was suffice to lift me off the
ground. He had done away with 50% of that annoying
accent and we both were still single. We chatted about
every possible topic you could think of.
Towards midnight, Ayan tried his best to set the ‘mood’.
He ran his fingers through my hair, kissed me on my
forehead, gave me surprise hugs, and looked into my
eyes for long intervals.
Being the blunt girl I am, I asked him,
“Ayan, this thing you want to do, do you have the
strength? You know you just had a long trip?”
He giggled.
“A nice meal should fix whatever strength I need” He
replied.
He was obviously hungry.
No supermarkets were open at that time so we decided
to improvise. As a degree holder in Home Economics,
Ayan is well versed with kitchen related matters. I
suggested he cook for both of us.
We decided on local jollof rice with tin tomatoes and
sardine since I had those item at home.
Ayan had barely spent 15 minutes when he let out a loud
shriek of Jesus.
“What’s wrong?” I asked while I dashed towards the
kitchen.
“Its the Titus! There only 2 fishes only! I thought they
used to be 3 before I left the country?”
I peeked into the Titus tin and found 2 underweight
fishes soaked in excess oil.
Dear Titus, Ayan didn’t travel from the Far North to the
West only to find two fishes in a sardine tin.
#BringBackTheThirdFish
Even the guy in the picture of the tin of Sardine is shocked!
we began to get serious with our friend versus relationship, his
dad whisked him off to the States to major in Home
Economics.
The first few months, we tried our possible best to keep
in touch but albeit, distance is really an enemy . The
different time zones coupled with the expensive call
rates made phone calls a cumbersome task.
Five years ago, when I realised I am that1997chick
without a boyfriend , I decided to give the friendship with
Ayan a go once again. Calling him was a huge mistake.
Ayan had downloaded the thickest American accent.
Even George Bush would have had to strain his ears to
pick his words out. All I kept saying was ‘yes’ and
‘okay’ while poor Ayan kept freestyling in his new found
American accent. I had to swallow panadol immediately
I dropped the call.
I never bothered to pick his phone calls which came
quarterly until last week. Ayan was back in Nigeria and
he suggested we hook up. I was in high spirits. He was
in Abuja. I was in Lagos. The agreement was he’s going
to travel down to my place and spend a night or two.
That was fine by me.
Evening of the d-day he was knocking at my door. One
of those macho arms was suffice to lift me off the
ground. He had done away with 50% of that annoying
accent and we both were still single. We chatted about
every possible topic you could think of.
Towards midnight, Ayan tried his best to set the ‘mood’.
He ran his fingers through my hair, kissed me on my
forehead, gave me surprise hugs, and looked into my
eyes for long intervals.
Being the blunt girl I am, I asked him,
“Ayan, this thing you want to do, do you have the
strength? You know you just had a long trip?”
He giggled.
“A nice meal should fix whatever strength I need” He
replied.
He was obviously hungry.
No supermarkets were open at that time so we decided
to improvise. As a degree holder in Home Economics,
Ayan is well versed with kitchen related matters. I
suggested he cook for both of us.
We decided on local jollof rice with tin tomatoes and
sardine since I had those item at home.
Ayan had barely spent 15 minutes when he let out a loud
shriek of Jesus.
“What’s wrong?” I asked while I dashed towards the
kitchen.
“Its the Titus! There only 2 fishes only! I thought they
used to be 3 before I left the country?”
I peeked into the Titus tin and found 2 underweight
fishes soaked in excess oil.
Dear Titus, Ayan didn’t travel from the Far North to the
West only to find two fishes in a sardine tin.
#BringBackTheThirdFish
Even the guy in the picture of the tin of Sardine is shocked!
posted from Bloggeroid
1 comment:
lol,getting hooked to this blog
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