Must Read: A Simple Life On Paper… Part 8 - Gidifans

You Are Here: Home » -A Simple Life On Paper » Must Read: A Simple Life On Paper… Part 8 - By Mr. Maraj On August 6, 2015 At 9:02 am

If You Missed The Part 7, Read It Here

Monday was not as dreaded as Garfield painted it out to be. I was in a good mood all day. The students were using it to their advantage. They were asking a boatload of questions. The questions ranged from religion, life after university, life in the civil service and Emeka was interested in my se*x life. We all got lunch courtesy of Uzi. Her mom was so pleased with her dedication to the training that she bought her a car. We were all invited to go clubbing with her and her friends on Friday night.

Everyone was interested. The married guys were also planning to come along with their wives so it seemed like it would be lively.
Tuesday came and first thing in the morning Tintin (Tinuke) came over to tell me she would be reporting to camp. She had a crazy look I recognised from the other day but she later let it slip that the French had arrived. I was going to miss seeing her.
I went to work and decided that I would take my students out for lunch. I was surprised that the “big boy” Emeka followed us. The ladies chose the location and they technically organised our seating. Emeka was away from me and I was flanked by Abdul and Bunmi. She took charge of the chitchat and had her mind on the clubbing.
Things like when I would come, who I was planning to come with, what was my drink of choice, do I dance all came up. I just generalised the questions after I answered them. The other gents were also pleased to share their own plans. Pat was going to bring a girl he met online, Emeka was going to bring his guys, Abdul was not going to come due to other pressing engagements and Bunmi’s boyfriend was going to take her there. So they all had more detailed plans than I had.
All I planned on was leaving home by nine.
I went out in search of fruits that Thursday in the evening. Unfortunately, Ibro (my fruit vendor) was not open. So I had to go further down to get all the fruits I need. On my way back into the compound, I saw TinTin’s car parked close to her apartment. Since I was holding perishables, I went straight to making my drink.

If she wanted to see me, she knew where I would be.
I woke up and readied myself for work. Picked up my bag and headed out. To be honest, I was a bit bothered by the fact that Tintin didn’t come over so I considered seeing her before I left, but fate intervened and her door opened as I had done locking up. A dude came out in a corps member’s kit. That fella was definitely older than thirty… but that was no concern of mine. Tintin following him out however bugged me a bit because she looked fetching in her bum-shorts and vest. Was beginning to hope he hadn’t touched her last night, but the kiss he planted on her lips before he left her veranda was all the proof I needed. It hurt.

“Welcome back white fowl” I belted out. He was already on his way to the gate so it wasn’t as if I was interrupting anything. “Don’t call me that joor” she replied with a look of mock hurt on her face. We didn’t say anything else as I headed out of the compound and to work.
I was back home by five. I didn’t spend much at the office after work because I wanted to be fully rested before the evening. I ate, showered and hit the sack. I ignored the knock on my door as the sleep began to kick in. By half past seven, I was on my way back from buying a grilled chicken. It was going to go well with my dinner. “Were you doing someone this afternoon?” Tintin asked as I was opening up. “I wasn’t” I answered. “Why didn’t you answer me when I knocked” she continued as she followed me into the kitchen.
She had a lot of things she wanted to clear up. I was to know that I was just my friend, the guy who I saw leave her place in the morning was Babatunde (her ex), she was going to travel for a wedding hence her escape from camp and she was looking for me in the afternoon because she had cooked and wanted me to taste her cooking. To be honest, I was pleased when she left to her place to answer a call from her fiancée. It gave me the chance to shower and dress in preparation for the club.
There was something about knowing someone else had touched her that made her less appealing to me. I still enjoyed her company, but I was alright with the “just friends” she classed me as.
I got to the club in time to be in the pictures and the cake (she decided to celebrate her birthday a week early) had not been butchered. Uzi didn’t mention that she attended an “all girls” school, but the fact that there were more ladies than gents in VIP lounge was proof enough.

The married folks were seated and screaming over the music, Emeka and Patrick were dancing with some ladies, Bunmi was having drinks with her guy and Uzi was shuffling between the dance floor and photo ops.
One thing I loved about the party was the short dresses that the ladies wore. It worked wonders for their figures.
It even gave those that you wouldn’t notice had feminine figures worth bumping and grinding with.
I was downing my third malt when a lady left the dance floor and lured me from my bar stool to the floor. Thank God I learnt how to dance during my university days.

After a couple of minutes with that lady, I was also thankful I wore tight underwear. She was dancing freely with me and grew excited every time she saw me break an energetic move. I liked her energy and the feel of her skin under her satin dress. I was let down when her clique called her over to them so she could answer a call. I don’t do that solo dancer thing some guys have mastered so I thought of going back to the bar when Bunmi came to take her place.
I was looking at Bunmi that evening under a new light.

Maybe it was the dress that enhanced her curves or the makeup that enhanced her eyes. She had a bigger rack than I had noticed before and I loved the way they swayed and bounced to the beat. It was also hard to believe that the same lady that kept her distance from me at work was dancing with me so passionately and freely that I had almost forgotten about the one I was dancing with earlier. At a point, she was even twerking…
my southern anatomy was giving me grief for restricting his freedom. After a while, I understood why some guys take a break in the lavatory to shake the one-eyed monster.

Watch Out For Part 9


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