It’s the first day of work after my leave and I am running late. It’s quite unusual to see me running around the house aimlessly on a Monday morning. My leave is over, meaning real life has begun. I’m happy I didn’t take any extra shot after Shalewa insisted I take, I’m kind of hung over. Shalewa is my sister from another mother, best friends do not cover her importance in my life. Knowing I would be going back to work tomorrow, she had suggested we get wasted, since work resuming meant us spending lesser time together. Shalewa had her own business, so she could afford to set her own rules.
Why do car keys disappear when you need them, maybe I should just ditch my car and fly a bike to work. The idea sounds appealing considering the fact that Apapa traffic can be a standstill. But, with my present state, my car would help me get arranged better. Finding the key is impossible on my own, until I call Shalewa who directs me to the same stand I would have sworn I checked. I adjust my knee length dress that accentuates my curve and lays emphasis on my perfect backside. I hope I look hot enough to be ignored for coming late.
The drive from my house to the junction is taking longer because the road is no longer as free as it should. We are moving but at a snail’s pace, could today get any worse? The mad drivers are honking away my eardrums and it’s irritating. Finally, the road clears up a little and I navigate my car towards the right, checking for any sign of authorities, I swerve into the one-way lane and drive freely. I’m muttering all the prayers I know and I hope I don’t get caught, luck is on my side because I had covered what would have taken me 20 minutes in 5minutes on this lane before nemesis comes knocking. Literally on my door because there is a military convoy coming my way and I’m forced to park my car hoping they ignore me. They all drive across and I’m about to heave a sigh of relief and continue when my car is blocked in front by one of the cars and a military man comes down. He looks like he is in his mid-thirties, tall,sexy, handsome and polished. He looks like the boss and I can see his entourage hovering around him.
At this point the only thing that should be going through my mind is if I can perform frog jump with my body con dress but instead my uniform fixation is making my ovaries jumpy. And he looks quite familiar, what am I supposed to do.
“Neka” Oh shit, Mr uniform knows me.

%d bloggers like this: