Diary of the Crazy Shaniqua Bello

Log Seventeen: POWDER ROOM

SEVENTEEN
POWDER ROOM

01/01/2022

New Year's Day

7:13 pm

Dear Diary

I'm reporting live from the Bankole's guest toilet—or powder room like the maid who led me condescendingly corrected me.

Have I had too much to drink? No!

Have I had a lot to eat? No!

Is the dress suffocating me? YES—but that's not why I'm here.

I'm in here because my boss won't stop looking at me like he wants to break my head.

It started when I stepped into the massive living room of the mansion which was beautifully converted into a reception room; I'm not trying to blow my horn, but this dress is really sick on me and Olorun Gbo! I fine die—at least in this dress today o, so, when everyone in the room kept looking at me, I figured it was because of the way I slew in—I had no idea that it was because I was wearing the exact dress his mother had ordered from the store which they'd only called her minutes ago to inform her that it was no longer available and just when she was beginning to resign in good faith, her son's assistant show up to her party rocking the exact dress beautifully than she'd have ever done. No offense—just FACTS.

"Where did you get this dress?" Elvis asked with fury in his eyes.

"At the store?" I responded, still oblivious of his reason for being particular about the dress; in fact, I thought he was using style to feel me so I might have added a pinch of Shakara here and there, only for him to down his drink aggressively, roll his eyes annoyingly, size me down irritatedly and finally walk away furiously. Initially, I told myself that was his business as I began to settle into the party by grabbing a glass from the tray of a passing waiter until I caught his death glare out of nowhere—clearly warning me about drinking on duty, "No vex" I told the waiter before dropping the glass down slowly with my lips held tightly.

But Bebi, it didn't end there...

Someone's knocking.

Be right back.

Reporting live from the—Powder room
Shaniqua

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