Fair lady, wherein hath thou materialized from and what is it you seek of me, I cannot help but wonder aloud! I did not recognize the face but accepted the 'request' all the same. Now I had a bit more access to whatever information she had put on her profile.
First, I browse through her photos, the majority of them taken while she is alone and perched, a tad uncomfortably, in front of an archaic-looking IBM notebook, in what appears to be a small-scale business office of some sorts.She was far from drop-dead gorgeous but the long fluffy hair that ran all the way down to her shoulders, I suspect did a lot to cover any flaws and enhance the finer features of the face, making it passably attractive. From the sitting position, I can tell
her figure is just about right, nothing like Beyonce but enough to receive its fair share of considerable ogling from guys wherever she goes.
Onwards I move, onto the brief 'bio' - did not find much there to suggest the kind of personality I was dealing with. At best just the bland, regular everyday kind of girl.
Undeterred, I plow on looking for a 'chink', anything that would throw some light on the identity and (or) intentions of this young lady who has somehow materialized out of the blue and thrust herself unceremoniously into my 'cyber-life".
Still bemused, I take my eyes off the page and mentally scroll through my head for any clues to remind me if I may have met this person somewhere in the course of my daily sojourns but none is forthcoming. Thankfully I have the smallest imagineable memory bank on such matters, this due to the fact that I don't get to meet that many females and hardly make any impression of note on the very few I do meet. So mercifully, this isn't a particularly tedious task. Search result returns a null.
So back to the computer screen I turn, her profile gives her location as Abuja...hmmm Abuja, I've only ever been there once in my entire life and in the three days spent, I only spoke to guys - cab drivers and office workers. Jev comes to mind, she could be somehow related to Jev...dude resides in ABJ not so!? So I check again for any mutual relationships...no, not Jev but Ehis. Now this is super odd. Ehis doesn't know anywhere beyond the Warri-Benin express road. Not that he can't know or have folks in ABJ, but trying to imagine that guy anywhere else but the Edo-Delta axis is like taking a fish out of water...I can just see him in a fit gasping for breath!
All options exhausted, I see she is available on chat and send her a brief, chirpy message to try establish some form of camaraderie and get none in reply. After several tries and flustering hours of watching her chat status change from 'online' to 'offline' and back again like batting eyelids, I throw in the towel for the day.
Invariably the curiosity wanes with time like old make-up...and she becomes another 'friend', albeit familiar only on the pages of FB!
January 29, 2012
January 12, 2012
In the everyday hustle...
Standing in line at the ticket sales point of aero contractors in MM2, amidst the constant hum, buzz and chatter prevalent in this environment, I overhear fragments of a conversation...the reasonably appreciable voice of a female marketing agent trying to sell some sort of product or service to an adult male, who just happened to have the gruffest of grunts as voice and didn't sound like a nice or easy to deal with person at all.
"Sir, please let me just show you some of our..."
"I do not have that kind of time...My business determines my location at any time."
"Where do you have...?" The airport noises made it difficult to hear as much as I would have loved to, especially the saleswoman’s pitch…the scene had an odd ring about it; like a madly driven, love-stricken woman trying to win the attentions of a man. For a moment, I’d gone off-beat, the gruff voice broke me out of the reverie.
"Dubai, UK, America, France, Germany, India, China..." Seemingly showboating now.
"Sir, if we were to give you seven days at any location of your choice where would that be? We have facilities in Asia, Europe..."
"I have told you before; business determines my location at any time."
"Sir, where are you based, I can..." At this point, the marketer is rather rudely and abruptly cut-off by the increasingly impatient and totally unpleasant gruff voice.
"Look young lady, I am a very busy man; you have my card...call me to find out where I am." With that and a quick shuffling of feet, this signalled the end to a conversation even I found as disturbing and discomfiting as perhaps the lady did.
At this juncture, I couldn’t help but turn around to catch a glimpse of the actors.
The ghoul of a man (and I mean it literally), clad in a white, simply cut native attire; neck, wrists and fingers, bejewelled extravagantly, carrying a laptop bag and an array of handheld electronic devices that make SLOT look like an antique shop; just about dragged his considerable mass over to one of the ticketing cubicles of another air carrier and proceeded to deliver a harangue to the unfortunate occupant.
The marketer, a pretty, black, petite lady spotting jeans and a brown tee-shirt with the insignia of some kind of travel agency, tourism group or leisure resort stood alone a feet or two behind me. She was bent over a file folder, rapidly scribbling away on a notepad, more in a bid to avoid embarrassing stares than anything else I suspected. She caught my stare and just for an instant I can sense a bit of dejection and frustration in her eyes. I smile and offer what I hoped to be an assuring nod. She smiles back and returns to her jotting.
It’s crazy…the things we have to go through, all the B.S we have to take, dues we have to pay just to make this money!
"Sir, please let me just show you some of our..."
"I do not have that kind of time...My business determines my location at any time."
"Where do you have...?" The airport noises made it difficult to hear as much as I would have loved to, especially the saleswoman’s pitch…the scene had an odd ring about it; like a madly driven, love-stricken woman trying to win the attentions of a man. For a moment, I’d gone off-beat, the gruff voice broke me out of the reverie.
"Dubai, UK, America, France, Germany, India, China..." Seemingly showboating now.
"Sir, if we were to give you seven days at any location of your choice where would that be? We have facilities in Asia, Europe..."
"I have told you before; business determines my location at any time."
"Sir, where are you based, I can..." At this point, the marketer is rather rudely and abruptly cut-off by the increasingly impatient and totally unpleasant gruff voice.
"Look young lady, I am a very busy man; you have my card...call me to find out where I am." With that and a quick shuffling of feet, this signalled the end to a conversation even I found as disturbing and discomfiting as perhaps the lady did.
At this juncture, I couldn’t help but turn around to catch a glimpse of the actors.
The ghoul of a man (and I mean it literally), clad in a white, simply cut native attire; neck, wrists and fingers, bejewelled extravagantly, carrying a laptop bag and an array of handheld electronic devices that make SLOT look like an antique shop; just about dragged his considerable mass over to one of the ticketing cubicles of another air carrier and proceeded to deliver a harangue to the unfortunate occupant.
The marketer, a pretty, black, petite lady spotting jeans and a brown tee-shirt with the insignia of some kind of travel agency, tourism group or leisure resort stood alone a feet or two behind me. She was bent over a file folder, rapidly scribbling away on a notepad, more in a bid to avoid embarrassing stares than anything else I suspected. She caught my stare and just for an instant I can sense a bit of dejection and frustration in her eyes. I smile and offer what I hoped to be an assuring nod. She smiles back and returns to her jotting.
It’s crazy…the things we have to go through, all the B.S we have to take, dues we have to pay just to make this money!
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