Wednesday: 5:30 P. M.
---------------------
Someone, somewhere in Jamaica, is probably saying to themselves right now: 'A Wednesday already?'
Not me though. I'm more inclined to say, 'A just Wednesday?'
This week, a very hectic three days out of it so far, seems to be dragging its lazy behind on.
The little holiday yesterday didn't even make a difference. By the time I winked an eyelash on Monday night, it was Wednesday.
If only the entire week was like that.
The one-day holiday caused such a significant backlog at work, which only made situations worse. Everyone and their grannies and mothers were out today, trying to get shipments cleared and whatnot.
To my horror.
I didn't even have time to breathe properly, much less to grab a bite to eat. Something I'm currently paying the penalty for; if the worms in my stomach have anything to say about it.
I sigh as the grumbling in my tummy echoes in the silence.
I'm tired. I'm frustrated.
And I'm fucking hungry.
Tripple threat.
Another heavy sigh escapes my lips.
I can't wait to take my leave next week. Those fifteen days at home, away from the hustle and bustle of 9-to-5 life, will surely do wonders to my fatigue-ridden limbs.
Thank God.
I just want to go home, bathe and find my bed right now!
If this friggin' chaotic road would let me.
The traffic is dense as hell as I turn onto the main road, immediately pulling up behind the long line of vehicles as the third stop light within a five-minute drive turns red.
My tummy grumbles again in protest.
I definitely have to stop to grab some food, as I feel as if I haven't eaten in days.
Which is partially true, as I haven't been really eating like I used to these past few days, considering the circumstances.
Nuh you want starve yourself like idiot.
Yuh think Odaine nuh eat?
Not to mention Lucas. Good body nuh run off a so-so stale air.
Stay deh form fool...
I will the thought away. It's not even about them.
Really?
Yes, really.
I just haven't been in that place these past couples of days.
Contrary to popular beliefs, it's normal.
At least to me it is. It's my body's normal response to stress that is.
So stress normal, miss?
Jeez, can't I catch a break with you?
What I'm trying to say here is, have you ever felt hungry, but, whenever you go to eat, you just...can't?
Well, that's how I feel.
And it doesn't even have to do with how I'm feeling inside.
I sigh.
Must be gas.
At least that's what mummy says.
She still doesn't know about the whole Odaine situation yet, by the way.
And I dont necessarily care to make her any wiser. At least not yet.
She'll just blow everything out of prop--
A slow tha car man yah really a slow down!?
The little yellow car before me is the one separator between me and the chance to beat the red light, and that's exactly what he's doing; slowing the fuck down!
"Seriously?" I hiss, blaring my horn to urge him on.
Only for the car to practically stop right at the intersection. Without the light even going to red.
"Go through the amber, nuh bitch!" I curse, using the horn to aid my argument.
Acting like yuh obedient to the road code than anybody else!
Regardless of me honking the horn like a mad person, the driver would never budge an inch more.
Spiteful, jankro!
The light flickers before switching to red.
Rasshole man!
I hiss my teeth and honk the horn one last time, even though that does nothing to remedy the situation.
With a frustrated sigh, I fall back into the seat and adjust the seat belt which seems to want to cut my throat.
Bet it's a woman.
A can't one man a drive so like a big sissy.
My phone chimes and I look at the TikTok notification which pops up at the top of the screen: 'He dumped me!'
Clicking on it reveals a video of a girl in her car, with the caption reading: 'It gets better.'
If I weren't convinced that our phones are spying on us before, I am now.
How coincidental is it that as soon as I'm going through a breakup, TikTok starts recommending breakup motivational videos and shit on my FYP?
'If you've just come out of a relationship, or are currently going through a breakup, then this goes for you!' is written on the screen in cursive letters.
Just a coincidence right...?
Call me paranoid, but I think not.
Out of curiosity though, I click on the video and it automatically starts playing.
"I don't know who needs to hear this, but what I do know is that if they wanted to, they would have!" the girl says.
"If they wanted to give you more than the bare minimum, they would've. If they wanted to put in effort; if they wanted to learn; if they wanted to grow; if they wanna listen...they WOULD HAVE!"
Normally, I'd cringe and scroll past these types of videos, but somehow this one catches my attention. I turn the volume up a bit more, so that the voice of the woman on screen surrounds me.
There's just something so raw and authentic about her. I can almost hear the pain in her voice when she speaks.
"These are all CHOICES. Don't let yourself get fooled by people. Nah, we're done making excuses. We're done with the ifs, buts, and maybes. It's not that hard. I swear to you. They know what they're doing, you know?"
OK, sista friend...Preach!
"And you know what you're doing too. Don't fool yourself. If it's toxic, it's exactly that."
The light goes to green and I pull out of the lane I'm in and filter into the one parallel to it.
The little yellow car still lingers in place despite the horns of the other vehicles blaring behind it.
I slow down beside it, just enough to get a good glimpse of who's really driving.
A really a man a drive so? Watch the dutty bungle nuh! If a never phone him deh pon sommuh wrong.
It's as if he senses me staring, he meets my gaze and honks his horn.
Guh honk yuh mada, sir!
Shifting my attention from him, I push further up the chain.
If a Wednesday evening this and the road stay suh, imagine all Friday! No man!
"Sas Christ!" I cry, gripping the steering wheel tightly and pressing down on the brakes.
Thankfully, I had turned my attention back to the road ahead just in time to swerve from a taxi man who just pops up out of nowhere and bores in front of me, then had the nerve to flip me off as if he didn't just nearly run into my fucking car!
Suck yourself, dogshit!
It's literally a jungle out here on these Jamaican roads, trust me. If you aren't careful, your chances of meeting in an accident are super high. I must give thanks to God every day that I go out and return home safely. These motorists are savages. And that's especially why I despise driving at night time.
"A toxic relationship is like a broken mirror. It's better to leave it broken than to hurt yourself trying to fix it," the emotional voice says, drawing my attention back to the audio playing.
Hmm...
"If it ends, let it. It's OK to feel upset; and you will. It's OK to feel hurt; and you will too. Sad, annoyed, worthless. It all comes with the package...and that's OK. That'll change. Eventually."
I felt all of those emotions within a twenty-four-hour period. It's been four days, and it hasn't gotten better, so I'm guessing 'eventually' is the key term here.
"People go into relationships for all sorts of reasons. But one important aspect of a successful relationship that you must consider, which many don't, is not just about how compatible you are, but how you deal with your incompatibility. And that sometimes can be the deal breaker."
I guess that's true.
It certainly seems that way with me and Odaine.
I guess we just weren't compatible, and that's not something you can force, no matter how hard you try. No matter how much you feel you love and want the person. That's just not how it works.
I learned that the hard way.
"Sometimes your heart just needed more time to accept what your mind already knew."
Yuh damn right!
"It's sad. I know. However, no one is in control of your happiness but you; therefore, you have the power to change anything about yourself or your life that you want to change."
I involuntary scoff. Although it's not a lie, it's definitely not as easy as it sounds.
"Listen, I know what it feels like to be with someone who makes you feel like a burden. Someone who makes you feel like he cared and then just up and left. What's the reason? The classically lame: 'It's not you, it's me.'
"Of course it is! Or maybe drops some other lame excuse. Like ugh! I know he broke you when he left. I know you miss him. I know you miss his touch. I know what it feels like to be up at 3a.m. just staring at his spot in your bed trying to feel that feeling you felt when he was there. Now he isn't.
"Just like that. He acted like he didn't even care. About you, your relationship, nor your feelings. I know you wish things were different. But it's not. Everything happens for a reason, and the only thing you need to do is move on.
"Right now you're too tied down to your past that you can't even see your future ahead. Let go. It's hard! Yes, it is. But, the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it...but you have to do SOMETHING!"
Call Lucas...
"It's time to stop watering dead plants. Sow some new seeds."
Literally and figuratively.
"Listen, this is what I live by, OK? And I'd always tell myself that I only want what's meant for me. I don't want anything that's not for me. I don't want anything that's willing to walk away from me, or-or, not put in as much effort as I would put in, OK!
"Remember that life is happening for you, it's not happening to you. Don't resist, 'cause something beautiful is waiting for you, OK? Only accept what is meant for you, OK? Let go. Let go. It's not going to be easy, but I need you to accept what's going on. Let things choose you, OK?"
I nod. The passion in her voice is almost pleading with me to accept her proposal, so I do.
"Not every one who chooses you is meant for you though. Don't get me wrong. The truth is, some people are just pitifully wrapped pieces of shit!"
I laugh at this.
It's so friggin' true!
"So why blame them when they do shitty things? What you need to do is to stop romanticizing men who treat you like shit."
"If you leave me when I'm hurting, when I'm broken, when I'm crushed...don't come back! Don't text me. Don't call me. I don't wanna know about you, about how you're doing, nothing. You don't exist to me anymore!
"You have to learn to accept that you just weren't mean to be. Well not in the way you'd hoped. You were simply there to be a healer. A fixer. To prepare them for the next love. Not yours."
Well, damn...
"But don't beat yourself up. It's just life's effed up cycle. Move on. Get up, dust yourself off, and tilt your chin up and say, 'I am me. I am strong. I can do this."
Without realising, I find myself repeating those words, "I am me. I am strong. I can do this."
For some reason, this entire video has lifted my mood.
Little sis was spitting pure facts.
I needed this. Needed to hear those words. And they couldn't have come at a better time.
Smiling like a Cheshire cat, I like the video and add it to my 'Favorites' as another video to resort to during my 'Me Time'.
Thankfully, the video ends just as I reach the entrance to the mall. Clicking the right indicator switch, I then disconnect the Bluetooth before turning into the mall.
***
After ordering my food, I make my way over to the food court to have a seat, since the food won't be ready until another ten or so minutes.
Unfortunately.
I briefly contemplated leaving it, but I'm hungry as hell, and since I'm already here, I decide to wait.
Plus, I'd bought a Soldanza Plantain Chips and a bottle of water from a vender at the entrance to the plaza, so I can at least have something to appease my squirmish worms until then.
The place is surprisingly empty, but I'm glad. I don't wish for anyone to overhear my misbehaving stomach vermin.
If only the blasted Plantain Chips bag would a rassclaat open!
Being a challenge to open on its own, added to the fact that I'm wearing these hella annoying nails makes a supposedly easy task a hard feat!
Even after almost three minutes, at least what feels like it, the bag would still not tear.
I hiss my teeth under my breath and try again, oblivious to the fact that my struggling ordeal seems to have drawn company.
I feel his presence behind me, before I even hear him say, in a low and husky tone, "May I?"
My breath hitches in my throat and my heart beat falters.
Lucas?
It couldn't be? Could it?
No way!
It's like deja vu. Just like that night in the club.
I turn to face my guest, but my face drops when I realize that it's not who I thought it was. Regardless, I offer the stranger a small smile to mask my disappointment.
He motions to the bag of chips in my hands and I feel my brows knit together. "Huh?"
He chuckles softly. "I'm sorry. You seemed like you were struggling, so I was just offering to help."
I stare up at the man who towers over me.
How is it possible for this man to look so effortlessly dashing?
Tall, fair, shoulders like a bench presser, and doe eyes set in a clean-shaven, oval face; the lineaments a perfect proportion to each other. The little goatee was the cherry on top.
He certainly wasn't any Lucas, but he possessed his own aura of strength, purpose and authority.
"The chips," he clarifies, when I still hadn't gotten the gist.
Fucking baboon.
"Oh!" I finally find words. "Um, you wanted to pull it for me?"
He smiles and I'm met with a row of pearly whites. "Yea. Hand it over!"
I do.
"May I?" he motions to the empty chair across from me, as if seeking my permission to sit.
Mannerable and good looking? Is this my choosing?
"Sure," I grant him permission, per his request.
He walks around me and pulls the chair out before sitting. When he does, his faint cologne greets my nose.
Smells good too. Check.
I watch him as he effortlessly opens the bag before handing over to me.
"Thanks," I say softly, taking it from his hold, making sure not to let my skin touch his.
"I'm D'vante, by the way. You are?"
Shawna!
"Manda."
Look at you a walk a tell strange man yuh name...
Smaddy can so naive fi big woman, star!?
Shut up, 'cause you didn't have that same energy a few weeks ago when Lucas was that "strange man"!
That's different and you know it, miss!
How is it different?
Lucas is just a man like anyone else...
Herks! Stop right deh suh?
'Just a man'!
To whom?
Certainly not you!
The way how your skin ketch a fire when yuh see him, miss Frighten Friday!
I internally roll my eyes at the blatant exaggeration.
My skin has definitely never caught fire.
A little spark.
MAYBE...
"Short for Amanda. Nice name," Mr. Handsome across from me says, breaking the annoying internal monologue transpiring between me and my inner self.
She's the living spawn of a she devil I tell you!
"Though, if I'm being honest, I didn't quite peg you as an Amanda," he adds.
"Is that so?" I asks, quirking a brow. "May I ask what you pegged me as then?"
"Maybe an Olivia, or a Robin," he says with a nonchalant shrug.
Robin is really a cute name. I've always liked it. I've always said I'd name my daughter that, but spell it Robyn instead.
Hmm...Robyn Senior.
Nice!
I smirk. "Goes to show that there's more to me than meets the eyes."
Is that so?
Like what?
MI seh yuh love man 'til yuh fool fool!
He smirks in return. "I'd love to get the chance to test that theory."
I smile but say nothing. Instead, I bring the water bottle to my lips and take a sip.
This feels so good. To be able to flirt with hot men unabashedly, without the constant torment of thinking about getting caught.
I miss this.
My hand slowly snakes around my neck and I remember how close I'd come to being caught red-handed for my recent daring adventure.
Case in point.
Now, there's no one to hurt but me.
I'm a free agent, baby!
And it feels damn good. Liberating as a matter of fact.
Is this what it feels like to be single?
And I'm talking "single-single". Not single. Or "singl-ish".
Which one are you?
You don't even know your own damn self.
Last I checked, I'm so single and happy.
I beg to differ.
Not when you can't stop stalking such man profile.
It was one time!
One time every other hour, yes...
Plus, stalking someone's profile doesn't constitute anything.
I was just bored, is all!
Bored? Yuh mean horny!
I laugh at the thought.
That's true.
BUT, in my defence, I'm going through a crisis and have no control over my hormones. So, it's technically not my fault.
Imagine you a go through a crisis because yuh man drop yuh like hot pot, and the best thing yuh can think 'bout is another man's cocky.
Albeit, a very big, veiny, deliciously competent piece of tool...
I would congratulate you only because I don't mind the imagery.
Woi! Hot damn...
But! That's not the point.
Speaking of the devil, I wonder what's he's doing now?
Not obsessing over you that's for sure!
"So, can I get your contacts?"
Kacka fart, mi figot seh yuh still deh yah eno, sir! Honestly.
"What would your girlfriend say, Mr. D'Ante, if she saw you out here flirting with random women and such?"
"D'vante. And...nothing. Because I don't have one."
I blush at totally fucking up his name. A nuh mi tell him nuh fi have a normal name like regular people. It's a good thing he doesn't seem offended though. "A girlfriend or a wife?"
"Neither."
Really? And look suh?
Is either two things: he's gay or him hood dead...
"If it's one thing I know about you Jamaican men, you never have a woman yet?"
He laughs and leans back in his seat. "It's true. Swear to God. I'm as single as a flockless bird in the sky. But, I get it why you'd think that."
I quirk a brow. "And why's that?"
He smiles. "Because of the way I look."
Cocky fuck.
Yuh lucky seh mi like likkle arrogance more while.
...Especially when the bearer looks damn good...
Like a certain someone?
"Someone's full of himself I see," I say playfully.
This little banter is unbelievably fun. A good distraction from my problems.
His smile matches mine. "No, I'm not actually. It's just something I hear a lot from women."
"I thought you said you were single."
"I'm single. Not deaf."
"Touché!" I say, clapping slowly. "But for some reason I can't seem to believe you're not in a relationship."
"Not a committed one," he admits.
"Ha ha! There you go...!" I say and point my finger at his face. "Knew it!"
He holds his hands up in surrender. "No! I Date. I'll admit that. But I'm not currently in a relationship. Why would I be over here flirting with you if I were?"
I tilt my head forward and rest my chin on my fist. "So you're flirting with me, now?"
He mimics my posture. "It depends. Is it working?"
I laugh for the second time since Sunday. "Maybe?"
Yes...
"So will I get the digits then?"
"Maybe?"
Yes...!
"I'll take a maybe. Better than a big fat no."
I nod, but can't seem to stop smiling. "Why do you want my number anyway? I could be a psycho maniac. On steroids."
"And I could be a serial killer," he says, and my eyes go wide.
"No, I'm joking! Damn. That was not a good joke. Sorry."
"Um, definetly not, sir," I tell him. "I almost dived over the railing."
He laughs. "Yea, and we wouldn't want that would we. Dark humor is not for me. Noted."
Is this guy a cutie or what?
A breath of fresh air compared to the termites I usually attract in these kinds of places.
"Parden me asking, but are you Jamaican?"
He looks at me wearily but answers, "Yea. Why?"
Yuh just don't give off a yard bwoy vibes.
I shake my head. "Nothing really. It's just that you seem American. I can even detect a little accent somewhere in there."
He chuckles again. I can tell he laughs a lot. "Yea, I'm a bit of a mix of both worlds. Born to a Jamaican mom and an American dad, raised in Jamaica for most of my childhood years, but schooled in the US for ending-part of High-school and then college. So, I guess that's where the accent you're picking up comes from. How about you? Where are you from?"
Bush!
Way back a cow.
"Rural Jamaican girl here. I live in a community in St Mary called Shadow Grove."
Although I know absolutely nothing about this man, conversation flows easily with him.
He looks taken aback. "Wow. So, how are you in Kingston," he looks at his watch, "this late? Isn't that far?"
I check the time too. It's 6:15. Fifteen minutes since I've been here. The food nuh ready yet? A mussi plant dem gone plant the likkle rice.
"Not really. About a two hour drive from here. But I'm used to it, having been employed in the KMA for almost five years."
He nods, seemingly impressed. I don't know if it's with the fact that I'm a country girl, or that I travel back and forth to work every day for so many years.
It baffles me sometimes too.
"There's so much layers to you. I can already tell," he says suddenly.
Oh, you wouldn't know the half of it.
Good gyal layered like onion.
Pussy make bwoy cry too....
Out of pocket much!
Damn.
"If you give me the chance, I'd love to get to know more," he adds.
I smile. "Are you sure you can manage the sauce?"
He laughs but doesn't answer. But something in the way his eyes twinkle that tells me he isn't just a smiling, handsome face.
Men like him are dangerous.
Too dangerous.
I've been there before.
Could a barely walk the next day...
"Give me your phone," I find myself saying before I can even stop myself.
He hands me the device and I punch my number in. "There. Now you have it," I say as I hand it back to him.
He beems. "Thanks. I promise I won't stalk you."
I don't think she minds.
"Number 26!" the server calls out, before I can respond, and I open my ticket.
That's me. Finally.
I get up and so does D'vante.
"Can I pay for your meal?" he asks, and I agree.
Free food sounds good just about now.
He does, and in no time I'm downstairs and in the parking lot.
D'vante went the opposite way, since he's heading to Barbican side.
I don't grudge him. I can just imagine the traffic at that side of the woods.
It's been a good three minutes since he's left, yet I can't stop smiling.
Watch attraction over yah so!
Such man want see yuh!
Like he'd care.
Stop bringing him up!
That ship has sunken like the Titanic.
If yuh seh suh, still...
As I reach to the car door, a WhatsApp message comes in.
Tucking the food in the corner of the dashboard and placing the juice and water bottles into the cup holder, I open the message.
It's Deidre.
*Bitch! I forgot to tell you, we're going to a pool party on Saturday! Text me when you see this! Love ya! 😘*
The fuck?