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So, It Was My Blue Day by Hidentity(m): 5:20pm On Jul 22, 2015
It was around the third week of January, I was on the queue for almost 30 minutes at the ATM point. It was my turn, so I inserted my card and proceeded to request for a withdrawal. The machine replied in its usual courteous manner: please wait while your transaction is processing. 'No problem my friend,' I replied with a smile as i turned back to face those behind me with a smile. It shouldn't take more than 10 to 20 seconds before my wait should be over and I was determined to maximise my blue day. Blue day? Yes.

Each mindset with its colour: blue, orange, gold, lemon, maroon, indigo and grey. While some of this colours come to showcase their characteristics in my general attitude on different occasions, as ubiquitous as colour blue is, it is one that rarely comes to play. Orange and Indigo are common- each coming to play at least once in every 9 days, but blue? It rarely comes. What is Blue here? Indescribable, the mood that reveals that like amoeba is in shape, men have no definite form of attitude- how he can be anything subject to the dictate of nature, wealth, position, beauty, intelligence or experience. On blue days, I could be an old man- dishing out words of encouragement to lads in a manner that could leave listeners feeling like Methuselah was my childhood friend. I could be a bossy boss- very aggressive and inconsiderate- making a satire of how the highs treat the societal dregs and the less fortunate. On blue days, all I do is act. So, that day was a blue day, it was more so because I came across another character who didn't need to rehearse with me to make us garner a considerable audience.

So, I was smiling at those behind me on the queue while I await the outcome of granting the machine's courteous request. The woman next to me on the queue reciprocated the smile, then I started in Yoruba 'oko yin ati awon omo yin nko?' 'Won wa'. She responded. I was about letting out another personal question when I heard that sound the ATM makes anytime it deems one's card worthy of throwing away. On a normal day, I would have lamented the bad system and proceeded to another point, but blue days are different. 'Madam, e ma binu, e je ki n ba machine yin soro.' 'Madam, don't be crossed with me, let me talk to this machine.' Some of those on the queue smiled while some who already saw what was written on the screen hissed and dispersed- temporarily out of service.

I removed my card and made to enter the bank. At the entrance, I met Perpetual, a colleague at the university. Perpetual's sense of humour is incredible and I could figure out that he has not rescinded from that habit when he saw me and retorted 'the first lawyer from his village, thank God you graduated from the university after 8 years. I am happy for you.' I smiled and interjected 'Is your hometown still topping the chart for the highest number of lunatics in Africa?' 'Yes o, do you want me to make you one? The juju na just #30.' After a moment of chat, we both deemed it fit that we go in for my transaction and leave together. Meeting Perpetual was a recipe for the full manifestation of what a blue day is.

I was on suit, he was not. I think that he was casual sort of. He held a brief case and was on a fedora hat. We were behind each other at the entrance. I entered the bank- UBA at challenge in Ilorin and waited. He entered a couple of seconds later and sat down. After about 2 minutes, Perpetual whispered to me, 'that lady is looking at you'. I adjusted my tie and walked towards the queue. A minute later, I retorted in a bossy and aggressive tone 'Hammed, don't you think it is rather rude and a reflection of your dwindling professional ethics that you leave me here standing?' 'Sir, I'm very sorry sir. I no know say you wan sit oga'. He said and rushed towards me with his briefcase held close to his chest. With that, some of the customers and staffers of the bank were already looking at us. It was a blue day- to act my script without giving a damn was my business, so I didn't care if anyone thought I was too young to be his boss. Perpetual made it perfect, he held the suit case close to his chest and was almost prostrating. I noticed that the girl Perpetual hinted was staring was not looking at us then, she was with the staff in charge of customer's complaints. Hha, she must look.

'Be sorry for your indolent disposition towards tasks,' I continued. 'Abeg Sir'. He further pleaded. He came to the queue and pleaded with me to go and have a seat while he stood on the queue. I reluctantly obliged after looking at him in a disdainful manner for a few seconds. I walked to the seat with one hand in my pocket. At intervals, I was dishing out insults on Perpetual even as he stood on the queue, I accused him of stealing an expensive wrist watch from my collection when I was not in Nigeria. The only thing he could do was to say sorry and bow. By then, the lady had joined the list of those paying attention to us. I was conscious of my pitch, it must not be too high, else they would suspect that I was an aspiring rich man and that my driver was in fact, my colleague. I did not stop calling him names at intervals. The woman who was behind me on the queue earlier was now confused because I didn't even act as if we've met before.

Eventually, it was almost my turn, so Perpetual rushed down to where I was sitting and bowed 'Sir, you can now withdraw that token for me sir.' With that statement, it dawned on me that whatever I withdraw at the counter would go a long way in revealing my actual financial status. The cashier, those behind me would get to know what this aggressive rich man came to queue for almost 20 minutes for. An idea came to my mind, I should raise the tempo of my anger for my driver, Hammed and dash out of the bank in anger. But what about the lady? So, I stood up with an assurance of deft management of the situation and my co-actor's dexterity, I walked up to the cashier and when I was almost passing the 'looking' lady, I turned back and asked Perpetual 'Hamid, did ju park ma car right?' Straining my nerves to conjure some cool accent. 'Yes sir, it is outside.' I got to the cashier, placed my slip on the counter, and picked the pen from his desk. I was having mine in my pocket, but such attitude won't be new to anyone who has come across a mad rich man. He looked at me like someone who wanted to object but I gave him a scornful look. He then said 'please, can you just move to a side, so that I would attend to the next customer pending the time you would fill the slip?' I scoffed and reluctantly moved to a side. Chai, #7,000 on top all the noise. Then I called out to Perpetual 'Hammed, how much did you tell me would take you to Offa?' I knew Offa was one of the closest town to Ilorin and the transportation fare should not be more than #1,000. 'Oga, #800 will be okay. Shebi you don give me money yesterday.' Whao, I felt like hugging Perpetual, but rule No 7 of the inconsiderate rich man's principles provides: on no condition shall you hug your driver, except you two are attacked my robbers and you want to use him as a cover for bullet.

'Okay, let me double that up and then add a sum of #5000 to it for you to have a decent meal while travelling.' 'Hha, God will bless you sir.' I withdrew a sum of #7,000 and handed the cash to him right there. By then, the lady already left the banking hall. I told Perpetual to make sure he delivers the money and the provisions I gave him last night to his people at Offa and he delightfully agreed.

'Sir, you have a message,' Perpetual said as he handed me his phone. On the screen, he carefully typed 'Legal lunatic, enjoy your boss position, but forget your money.' I looked up with a pretentious smile and said audibly 'tell him to take it for free, I know he can't afford it. I'll get another one when I go on a trip.' 'Okay sir,' he replied and rushed back to sit.

We both went out leaving eyes on us as we walked out. We got out and went to the other side of the road to board a cab. We entered a cab heading for Broad way and while the driver was awaiting other passengers, Perpetual tapped me and pointed to his side- the lady at the bank was buying fruits. We both felt like the ground should swallow us. The devil eventually attended our bouffe when she turned back and entered right beside Perpetual in the cab. We were short of words, looking like overhyped footballers who lost penalty shootouts. She sat quietly too, with her gaze fixed to the front. Soon, the cab moved. We got to Broad way and Perpetual faced me, 'Sir, I parked your car inside here.' 'Then let us go and get it.' We both alighted and headed for the entrance. We looked back at once and saw her looking at us in a spiteful manner...

Yes, purpose achieved-that is how pretenders and people without regard for the feelings of another should be looked at, but people won't do that, they are rather celebrated. Blue days are not days of pretence, they are days of identifying the societal vices through impromptu acting and making a satire of them.

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