His Love Escapades: The Encounter with Rose, страница 1
His Love Escapades:
Encounter with Rose
Copyright 2014 Daniel Olas
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Table of Content
Somewhere in Lagos—south west of Nigeria – on a peaceful winter evening, being chilled by the cool penetrating and brainstorming-triggering breeze; relaxing in my usual manner – sitting on a white chair loosely and closing my eyes to reflect or reminisce over how the day has went.
I couldn’t reflect or meditate as usual, there’s only one thing I want to do this evening and that’s to write. About what? I certainly can't fantom. Should I write about the recent happenings in my environment? – No! It’s boring. In the past weeks, there has been no thrilling event; no rogue boys breaking each other's head, no orgy party that often ends in chaos politicians aren’t politicking with their campaign either. It’s just too boring. I guess everyone is busy preparing for Christmas and as such, all parties has been reserved for later days of December when the Christmas vibes are always at the climax.
But this evening, all I want to do is to write; write about a true life story of someone, a story that'd entertain my readers make them giggle at the same time. So after long moments of restlessness in my mind, I decided that I should share my life story—not just my life; but my love life—with you. And I hope you find it entertaining and interesting.
Before you forge on, note this, I'm presently single and I hope you don’t fall for me after reading this piece. As a lady, I'd advice you now to go out there and find a date; yes; zoom into a relationship first and then come back to read. But if you think you can handle this out rightly, you're good to go!!! **winks**
Hitherto, I had lived in the partial rural part of the country. Back there in my ancient town where I grew up, I was made to believe that, as a boy or a guy or a man, if you ever want to fall in love or you’ve fallen in love and you want to keep it; you must express your feelings to the opposite sex. Traditions and customs; they'd say, demands you to present yourself honourable as a man before a lady you wish to woo—no doubt about that. Because, growing up, I had witnessed those secret meetings at the backyards, those calls you received and you'd never talk because your parents are right there. You'll just end the call after a short moment feigning network failure—to ward off all suspicions. All those sounds of stone hitting the roof of that beautiful chick!—“some naughty little kids pulling some silly tricks” the wise old but ignorant and innocent pa’s and ma’s would say but you know, it’s that young witty boy that is bitten by love bug and he's crazily in love with this beautiful girl stucked right in there with chores—interminable ones!—or some must read books enforced by the parent and you know, phones are always switched off during these moments. So, the only way the lover boy could communicate his presence is by sending some stone-messages that are delivered on the roof and received by the beauty in the room. Crude? Well, that’s how desperate some guys could be. And don’t tell me now, that you were not desperate when she asked you out for a date and she was absent at the rendezvous point. You remember how silly you were acting? How restless you were that day? Don’t blush—its normal for every human that’s living a normal life…
That use to be the norm though it’s becoming volatile these days. For every boy, there's one thing you must learn to do and that’s how to win lady’s heart with every means you have. Though some means are not right, it sucks and you know what, it freaks and piss me off each time I learnt that a handsome dude used his affluence to woo a beautiful lady. So, if you were as poor as I am, you'd never ask a girl out? That used to be my question each time I got to know that a dude has just pulled the wrong string again. Your handsomeness and your charisma coupled with your 'gentlemanness' can win you a decent lady. You don’t need money to fall in love even though they do say it—‘Romance goes with Finance’—and I believe it because I've being victim of this often times. In a situation where some ladies think falling in love is a game of wealth… Sorry! You’d never be rich if you play it with me.
I met a girl back there in my town. Some years back now and her face is still fresh in my memory. Fair in complexion, oblong face, pink lips, a very black hair, and charming eye brows. What else? She’s beautiful at least physically. And oh! I almost forgot kissable lips! You know those lips that makes kiss something you always want to do every second? You should; probably your lady has one—lucky you! But that was the limit of her beauty. I was so crazy about her physical appearance I forgot to check for the inner one. She’s got all those curves—and as a man, you’d want to look at it again and again. Like I said before, that’s all she got. Not a tiny fibre of decency could be found in her.
Rose is a girl I met at a party organised by a friend of mine celebrating his birthday. I wasn't familiar with her, so the crush to know her better engulfed me like a fiery fire would do to a dry bush. Am not bad—I’m good looking and I've got those charming swags though with empty pocket—I was so poor then. And not that I'm rich now, but this year so far has been better than last year, and few days to Christmas, this year still promises to be great and end on a good note—I might be falling in love on December 31st…
We started as a friend – like how every great relationship today started—nothing more than a friend, though not innocent ones. We both knew that someday, it’s going to end in something more great. Rose does not know my house so the intensity of my poverty was not known to her. Each time we go on a date, I put on my best clothes—the very best I have. Sometimes, I had to go extra miles in working—doing menial jobs—just to buy good clothes and watches and shoes and chains… I was looking rich and living above myself. I’d save enough money—sometimes; I’d borrow or steal few from my mummy’s purse—to make sure that each date looks memorable. Buying hamburgers, ice cream, meat pie here, soda drinks there, and to Rose, she’s found just the perfect guy—rich and handsome, he’s got swags and taste!
I however did not plan to live a fake life, in fact, I enjoy being myself. But you don’t know Rose, she’s too exquisite… too flashy to date a wretched boy like me but I love her badly—that’s an understatement. I’m in love with her crazily, desperately… think of any qualifying word and add ‘ly’. Maybe you’d be able to describe my feelings better here; who knows, you’ve being in my shoes before or presently, you are in it now.
Rose got carried away with my fake life and she gradually but inevitably fell in love with me. Who wouldn’t? I bet the world most miss-hard-to-get would have fallen by now—a caring, rich, handsome-looking and an exotic young boy! What more do you need? I’d receive Rose’s call more than ten times a day, often asking me how many movies I had watched today—you know those lives that rich dudes used to live? Watch movies, surf the internet, and listen to music… and eat all those junk foods and snacks—that was Rose’s impression of me. In actual fact, I was the opposite. I can't remember the last time we watched movie in our house. We have sold our television-- two years ago when we were on the verge of being evicted from our rented apartment—to save our sorry butts from embarrassment. And not just televisions, we sold our sofas, couches and settees. Till today, our so called sitting room is adorned with old pictures hanging lifelessly on the wall with wooden arm chairs littering the room and out there, someone thinks I must have
I was so stupid those times, but I was enjoying every bit of it… I have a girl out there who doesn’t know a flinch about me but she’s dying to have me to herself alone and forever. And you know how it feels—I meant having the ball in your court. In case of mine, it was a bit complicated. I have the ball in my court but Rose is the best player here. I don’t know what to do with the ball but Rose does… It was a game I played and learnt from. A game I lost and I was never remorseful rather, I felt like a champion. Today, I'm the world best player with the ball always in my court—I definitely know how to handle love matters.