As the orderlies closed on her, Hayley fought the idea that this was going to be the end of her freedom. And just as she was about to stop running and surrender to the bastards, she saw an opening in the corner of the street.
She tore through the rubble and dusted the ashes off her linen shirt. Without looking to see what was on the other side of the wall, Hayley jumped.
Yup, she fell to his death.
And died. Obviously.
Yeah that’s about how much progress I’m making with that story thing I said. E say ‘HOPE’. More like ‘nope’.
Haha, how’s everyone doing?
I really want to post more often. It occurred to me that since I stay in all day everyday, chances I’d experience something worth telling you guys aren’t so high. And so, I decided to step out of the house today. Albeit just to get a haircut.
Quite obvious that I got myself into an unfortunate experience, since that’s what most of my stuff is on.
While brushing my teeth, I stared into the mirror and I couldn’t recognize the man I had become; hair all over the place. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch my hair hoping ‘bear bear’ will come out. But no show. So my hair wasn’t looking too nice.
When I was done, I got dressed and headed out.
My barbers shop is in another local government cos we moved. I’m in a long distance relationship and it’s annoying many times so I knew what I was getting myself into after we moved.
Every guy alive knows you should never cheat on your barber, like never. You can cheat on your football club, cheat on a test, cheat on your girlfriend (I don’t mean this baby; it’s just for the blog please), heck, cheat on your wife, but don’t EVER cheat on your barber.
This is one rule I’ve lived by most of my life. Except when I’m in school for obvious reasons.
Over time, it got a tasking to go so far just to get a haircut, and so, one day, I felt, what the hell, cheating just once won’t hurt. Luckily it didn’t. I got a mad cut even though I paid a little higher than I would have paid my barber but getting a haircut was the main thing.
From time to time, I visited this new barber. Although, I tried to make sure I didn’t cut my hair too frequently so the guilt of cheating doesn’t get too much for me to bear.
In say, three, four months now, I’ve worked on my hair about 3 times.
Normally, the penalty of cheating on your barber is getting a wack cut that either ends up in you looking like ‘roll on’ or you looking like your grandma was the one that gave you a haircut. I knew my luck would run out eventually; all our sins catch up on us. To make matters worse, I didn’t pick my barber’s calls.
I wasn’t in the mood to go so far to cut my hair so I thought, oh, might as well use this guy that’s close by. After all, one more time won’t hurt; and everybody is doing it so. Plus I wasn’t with any money. My plan was to tell the bike guy to stop at this new ATM place they just constructed, then I’d get money to pay him and pay the barber (illegitimate one).
You know, from the first few seconds on the bike, I could feel the repercussions of my sins waiting for me, cos the potholes were juggling things.
Ali and I got the ATM place. I believe, more like believed actually, that he and I were friends cos he had carried me one time before and we had this beautiful conversation (Don’t ask).
The ATM was out of service. Ali observed I looked sad so he asked, ‘Oga, e no work?’. I nodded faintly and got back on the bike. He asked where to and I directed him to the barbershop.
My new plan was to get to the barbershop, ask the barber for 100 naira to pay Ali, cut my hair and tell the barber I’d pay him later and all will be fine.
Unfortunately, the wretched luck of Dastardly and Mutley or what’s his name was chilling on my shoulders.
We got to the barbershop and I told Ali to chill. I went in and was all ‘Ah, How Far na? How your life? How things?’. Uno, trying to form familiar. Barber guy responded with the most casual ‘I dey’ ever.
It was after a minute or two of doing nothing I told my guy to assist a brother with money for the bike guy. He asked me why I couldn’t pay; if change was the problem or something. I shamefully told him that there was no money at all. Man giggled.
I’d rather not give you the unfortunate and shameful details on the events that transpired for pride and self respect purposes :'(:'(
Basically, I had to beg Ali for over 30 minutes to understand and let me go. Because the bastard son on two thousand fathers I was cheating with didn’t help me.
After all the street talk and stuff, Ali no gree. I was shocked. Just 100 naira guy, just. You know how many of us believe Hausa boys will shank you if you annoy them; yeah. So I intensified my begging but homie didn’t budge.
Eventually, one good Samaritan that wondered what the cause for the noise was helped me. I’d met him a couple times at the bakery so he paid for me.
Sigh. I just got home. Had to trek Israelite-esque distance; and worst of all, I didn’t even get the stupid haircut.
And I have to be somewhere important to be tomorrow 😭
Oh well, nonsense happens.
Moral lesson – Don’t cheat; except you’re a Yoruba boy cos apparently, word on the street is that it’s in our genes (Again baby, I don’t mean this)
Posted from WordPress for Shovel™