Twelve

It was Sunday but I was a bit too excited to have the usual Sunday afternoon siesta.

One more sleep before I met the infamous Mr. Folarin Olusesan. Time to do my own research.

I whipped out my laptop and got to work. An hour later, my mind wandered to the night before.

Boy! Kolade was a beautiful man. His dentition was impeccable and his eyes turned to slits when he smiled. He had this deep baritone voice that matched his fine face.

“Are you friends with the bride or the groom” he had asked. I stuttered. “The bri – no, the groom. I mean… B-both”, I said shyly. He then tipped his head to one side and smiled. He knew that he had me.

“Well, you look really nice today,” He finally said.

“Em… Aunty, why are you blushing”, Eromz rudely interjected, “See this girl oh! My friend, will you talk well!”

I had completely forgotten that he was there as well. With that, I was back to reality. “Ah-ahn, I am talking well now?” I defended myself.

“Don’t mind him,” Kolade said, “It’s cool. My friends and I are heading to Landmark for another event tonight. Would you like to come along?”

I wish I had said yes. I wonder what it would have been like to spend time with him. But my feet hurt and my makeup was tired so I politely declined. He just smiled with one side of his face, stood up and said “It’s cool. It was nice meeting you anyway.”

The end! No – can I get your number? No – would you like to have dinner?

These Lagos boys sha.