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Diary Of A Young Old Woman.

I miss the old days. The days when I could wear a mini skirt without disgracing a ring on my finger. The days when I could go clubbing with no lingerie on. The days when irresponsibility was seen as fun.

I remember that night, I kissed Tola’s boyfriend pretending I was drunk; that guy always looked so handsome with his connecting beards. I knew he loved it ’cause that idiot came back for more the next weekend pretending he too was drunk. I slapped the madness out of him even though I know I started it. Lol.

Then there was the girls’ night out. I might have just been a lesbian, cos the things we did ehn, Laide was just touching me anyhow. Frankly I liked it but didn’t want to go too far. Girls can be something else. Play with you today, gossip about you tomorrow.

School; I remember when I missed Dr. Kayode’s test cause I was cruising with the crew in calabar. The oil on my thighs when I went to beg him the next week was enough to fry Iya Modinat’s akara at the bustop that night. He would have been blind not to see the glittering me. The man passed me with hope that he would hit it. Lol. The sorry old hag. Set him up and threatened to tell his wife.

Then there was the drunk evening when I used the male bathroom instead of female’s at the club. If not for Ife I’m sure they would have raped me. The girl quickly noticed her drunk friend was missing and a search party found me already squating with prowling eyes waiting for my exit from one of the stalls. Hmmmm.

I miss the days when we were young wild and free.

There was Dupe, the kleptomaniac. That girl was sure to put us in trouble. But we always managed to escape even though we were sometimes seen as thieves because of her. Like that day she picked a guy’s wallet. The mad man was ready to search her for it. If not for the noise we made and wahala to follow that made him let go of her. The silly girl indeed stole it. Anything that got missing was taken by her even if you misplaced it elsewhere you’d still accuse her first. I remember when Tola was looking for her new pair of blue lingerie. She searched and searched and immediately Dupe walked in she just walked over to her and lifted her skirt. It was embarrassing, we all wanted to protest but what happened next turned the table. She didn’t have Tola’s lingerie on, but had stolen mine. My perfect whites!!!! I never use them except I am sure they were going to be seen. The matter was settled quickly and swiftly because a guy was at the door and girls’ code forbids the matter to leave the room. But wait, I’m telling you. I might have broken the code. She promised to change, but i doubt she ever did because the last time she was at my house after she left up till this moment I couldn’t find my bracelet.

I really should get going, my husband will be home soon.

Or wait, JK is in town, he would be out for longer. Yeah, JK. That guy. JK. The love of my life I couldn’t marry. We dated for a while, he was everything I sought in a man, but then, he wasn’t ready to get married, and he told me that. Six years later and he is still single. I miss him though. I miss his sheepish smile when he had done something crazy, I miss his jokes and sense of humour, I miss his perfect body, he spends more time in the gym than his mates spend watching football on the weekends, then of course I miss his touch, his skills in intimacy was second to none. Even my husband can’t compare. I just couldn’t wait, I was getting older and he had adviced me to find someone else. That’s when Femi came along and we just sort of connected. Even tho JK was all I wanted I still got married to Femi and they became good friends later on. But today, something in me wants to eat the forbidden fruit. I would just taste it one last time. It would be so discrete that nobody would know. We could use the hotel across town, that one that prides itself with offering hospitality away from prying eyes. Those people can help you cheat and noone would hear about it even if you were Tiger Woods.

So, let me see… the venue is settled, time… Femi would be out of town on Tuesday as he is going for a conference in Dubai, and just incase he comes back early like what usually happens in the movies, I would invite Shade to stay over at my place. I would tell her I’m going for fertility tests at the hospital and I dont want my husband to know so he doesnt feel bad. She’d stay and cover for me in case of the unforeseen.

So, Wednesday morning she should be here and by evening I’m gone to JK’s.

Let me make a call, JK had always been a bad boy so I know he would jump at the prospects of having me one more time even though I might be a little uhm… married. Nothing bad can happen, at least, I’m not the first.

So it’s a plan!!! He accepts the proposal, and like the leader of an elite military death squad I smile as I see the plan fall in place. A call to Shade then. Shade has always been supportive, a good friend. A really good friend in times of need. Can’t help smiling at the notion of “need”, and just like JK, she is in.

Let’s prepare for the mission.

Days pass and it’s Wednesday, my husband had called from Dubai, he got there in one piece thankfully, Shade had come in with her cousin, he’ll be in town for a few days and it would be nice to get him out of the house. So now I have two people who would cook a collaborative story on where I went should things go sour. Anyone could recognize any of our cars so it would be best to take a taxi. Same story I told Shade when she asked if I wasn’t driving.

The taxi reels in at the entrance of the “Purple Tiger”. It was rumoured to be owned by the Chinese with under-paid staff. But who cared really?Let me just get to business and get it over with. 3 days of uninterrupted fun. JK is on the fourth floor, he had given me the room number too and told me to call before I left my house, I just needed the receptionist to announce me before I went on up. I hadn’t called, surprises are sexy and now the absent receptionist is killing the mood. Is she being paid to loaf? Well, right now my hormones are tingling and with or without her I’m going up anyways. I would rather take the stairs to the fourth than bump into someone I know riding the elevator, the explanation would be too long, suspicious and probably unbelievable.

Wow, butterflies? Been a while I had butterflies in my stomach. That excitement was long gone a year after I married Femi, and just look, the closer I get to the fourth floor the more I feel like a child waiting to ride his new bike. Room 287 should be around here somewhere. This is 283, 285, there, room 287. I knocked, and smiled, the deep baritone came from the other side, it was JK, I knew he wouldn’t remember my voice so I thought to play a prank on him. “Room service” , I shouted back. Lets see how surprised he will be when he opens the door.

I was right. He froze. Couldn’t speak, couldn’t move , and I waltz right in smiling and giggling, he wouldn’t have guessed I will be here today. Before he could catch me with a strong grip on the arm and yank me out of the room, I realized, he was not alone. The second voice spoke from the toilet while walking out, “Sweetie, did she bring lubrication like we asked her to?” That voice, was very familiar. It’s a voice I woke up to every morning for the past 5 years. And the nude figure that now stood before me confirmed my fear.

It was Femi.

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6 comments

Leka February 8, 2018 at 3:57 AM

Straight and beautiful coordination.
And then it could have been so easy to guess the outcome when “good friends” “Dubai” and “hotel” came into play but the writer was able to hold me until the very last word “Femi.

Reply
Fajumo Adepeju February 14, 2018 at 6:29 AM

This story couldn’t have gone better. Felt it was being acted out in front of me. Had to hold my breath at the tail end cos I knew something could go wrong, but Femi….hmmm, he never came to mind. Welldone

Reply

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