Twisted

Chapter 4

"Nor worry my pikin", she continued, "I nor even want your money sef because badluck dey follow you".

"Hian!!" "Which kind wahala be this one this hot afternoon" I thought. I was no longer agitated, I was angry now. What in heaven's name did she mean by that?  I thought of a lot of ways to reply her and put her in her place but owing to the fact that she was elderly I just opted to give her back her okporoko and leave. "Madam if dem send you this afternoon eehn? Tell them say you nor see me" I retorted as I handed her back her okporoko, picked up my bag and left.

"Old women nowadays have some nerve" I thought to myself as I walked briskly into the parking lot and got into my car. "But she has a point you know", I continued in my characteristically dialogic thoughts of self assessment. " she didn't know about my man troubles because I've surely been on a lengthy streak of bad luck". "But what does an unerudite old woman know about bad luck" I muttered quite distastefully as I shrugged off the thought, turned on my car engine and drove home.

One of my favorite things to do on a Saturday is cook while jamming to loud and sometimes nauseating music from my stereo set, nauseating because my mom abhors my taste in music. She still doesn't understand how someone could choose Marvin gaye over tope alabi. But she has to live with it because she loves my cooking and the fact that I cook so well, better than her is too a mystery to her.

"Bimbo!! Put off that music" my mom must have been screaming my name for a while now, "that's how you'd miss out on important calls because of loud music". " your phone is ringing ooo jare", "if you like don't go and look for husband, be there dancing your age away".

" mummy I cannot force husband on myself now can I?" I replied after putting off the music.

"That one is your business" she retorted, "your phone is ringing". I picked up my phone to the excited voice of Halima at the other end.

" what's up girl" she started in her characteristically high pitched voice,

"I'm good ooo" I replied "this one you're calling me today, I hope I'm safe?"I asked suspiciously because halima never calls me unless she needs something

" uuh she's feisty this afternoon" she continued "me I'm sha just calling to tell you that you're paying for tonight..."

"Haba mana halima I paid last week.." I protested, in vain so it seemed. Halima was not having any of my tantrums.

"Just take it as payment for the awesome guy I'm introducing you to tonight.."

"Halima all the guys you've introduced me to were either jerks or emotionally confused.."

"This one is different I promise" she cut in leaving me wanting to squeeze her throat. "Dress to kill and please don't forget your debit card" she chorused as she hung up the phone.

Halima has always had my back although she has an annoying way of showing it. We met in secondary school when she almost beat a boy up for calling me a prostitute just because I refused his advances and since then we have been thick as thieves. "What will I even wear now?" I mused to myself knowing fully well how searching for the right dress to wear for a blind date can be mentally exhausting.

The winehouse lounge at ikoyi is the best place for single people like me who are looking for potential spouses. You could literally find any kind of person you want, you just have to know where to look. The winehouse ikoyi is home to all sorts of men; the jolly old ones who don't really want anything sexual, only just an opportunity to flex their wealth and touch you intimately. The arrogant ones who feel they have a right to get into any woman's legs just because they think their father has money, I hate those ones personally, I just think they are as thick as pig shit, and please don't get me started on the gloomy fellas who just come to drink their sorrows away and pester anybody they can find about their problems which truthfully if you ask me, nobody cares about. Then there are the kinda responsible ones; oh such smooth talkers they are, they will so serenade you with the words of their mouths you would think they actually mean what they say only to find out they are married or broiled up in some complicated mess of child custody, don't get me wrong; I love kids, just that I would love to start out with some kids of my own. The long and short of the story is that I have seen them all here at the winehouse lounge and I sincerely hope this mystery guy halima wants to introduce to me is worth it.

It's 6pm and I'm so caught up in my own thoughts that I don't even notice the security guard at the gate waving at me from his post as I drive into the lounge premises. What if this guy doesn't like me? What if I come off as too self sufficient and sophisticated? Because men seem to be intimidated by that these days. What if I don't even like him and it turns out to be yet another uneventful evening. "Halima is so dead if this guy isn't worth it" I mused to myself as I drove into the parking lot, parked in a good spot and turned off the engine.

Stepping unto the now too familiar compound of the Winehouse lounge is always an experience of mixed emotions, one can never know if they will leave satisfied, amused, embarrassed or angry. I slam the door of my car shut and proceeded towards the lounge's bar. The environment was serene as usual around this time of the day; filled with nature's ambience, a quiet pool side with an exotic wine bar. Every part of the winehouse seemed to have a wine bar, little wonder the name winehouse.

The sound of melodious serenading jazz music filled the air as I walked into the bar to meet halima beautifully dressed as usual. She wore a tightly fitted blue dress with matching black heels. Halima is beautiful and she knows it, adequately blessed with a voluptuous figure, great boobs and an eye watering bubble butt, halima will never pass on an opportunity to slay.

"Hey girl!" Halima interrupted her conversation with the bar tender the moment she spotted me. "You're early!"....

" is he here yet?" I asked, with a little bit of uneasiness in my voice "you know how I am with late comers"...

" slow your roll girl" halima teased "he'll be here soon".. " you smell nice by the way"...

"Do I?" I asked nervously.

"You look gorgeous too" she added 

"oh thank you but what if he doesn't like me?"...

" bimbo you worry too much jor".... "Don't worry, he'll love you when he sees you"... She jerked my arm pulling me towards the bar tender "But as for right now? We should have fun"... "Have you met my new friend mike?" She asked..

"Oh great you're already friends with the bar tender" I muttered..

"He actually prefers the term mixologist" she pointed out,dissentingly  waving her hands at me with her pointer finger upward.

"A professional mixologist at that" mike interjected..

"Oh really?" I chorused, Certainly not amused by him..

"Don't mind her mike"... " she is just too uptight"... "I've been trying to get her to loosen up a bit but she is as hard as a rock" .... "Anyways, can you mix something for us?" She asked excitedly, rubbing her palms together in a circular motion.

"Can I buy you beautiful ladies a drink?" A very familiar baritone resonated from behind me. "Ooh bimbo your date is here!!" halima chorused as she flung her arms in the air grinning from ear to ear. I think she had too much to drink already. But now that my date is here, there is just one thing off about him; why does he sound so much like kola?