***Over the next couple of weeks, i will attempt to share my experiences as I commute between Kent and the Capital, **
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Week 1 Day 1:• 06:17: The heavy partying this past weekend had left its toll on my body, having ignored my alarm twice already, I was in danger of missing my 7:30am departmental meeting; dashing across the neighbour’s lawn I just about managed to escape the oncoming refuse truck in my attempt to cover in 200mtrs from my house to the train station.
• 06:22: The train is delayed without any announcement forthcoming. The noise of a woman running perforates the serenity around the station, her arrival at the platform was meet by synchronised gaze of the men, relieved that the train was delayed she walked past ignoring the ogling eyes.
• 06:27: Train arrives; I decide to go for the 2nd carriage from the front. Miss S, well need i say she is one reason i elect to catch this train and not the earlier or later ones. 5 days a week she without fail can be found on this carriage, tugged away in the last window seat before the door, often topping up on her make-up. As I boarded the carriage, i looked round to find any empty seat near hers only to find that she was not there, the initial disappointment made me stop, but was soon hustled out of the way by the hoard of commuters seeking a seat in what was an already packed train. Just then i noticed her and fortunately there was an empty seat opposite her, squeezing between two scruffily dressed men i took my seat opposite Miss S; wow what a sight, i thought as the train departs
• 06:33: Miss S is wearing a pink stripped shirt, which blends in well with her spotless Caucasian skin, and her below knee skirt revealed far too much of her thighs, that I hardly managed to get beyond the back page of my copy of The London Metro. Each scan of the weekend’s football result was interrupted by an eyeful of her long luscious thighs, how i wished the train was permanently delayed or stuck in the middle of nowhere,  my thoughts interrupted by the train driver announcing that from this station onwards, the train would travel non-stop till it gets to London Charing Cross.

• 06:40: Stuck just outside London Bridge station, my attention was briefly arrested from Miss S, by the conversation of the two ladies seated directly behind me. Their conversation went thus
Woman 1: whispers Did you enjoy it?
Woman 2: I did but the 1st time it did hurt, next time make sure you go gentle, she said as she planted a kiss on her partner.
Woman 1: I thought you liked it there? You seemed to enjoy it?
Woman 2: I did enjoy iy but it was a bit tight and dry, so maybe u should have oiled it. By the way where did you get it from?
Woman 1: I got it from Ann Summers on Oxford St.

• 06:43: My eavesdropping again interrupted by the Miss S adjusting her pose, offering me the chance to see just a bit more of her stunning legs, the train driver apologises for the prolonged delay, not that i minded at least I had the delectable Miss S and the juicy escapes of two lesbians behind me for company.
• 06:50: Train finally arrives at destination. I delay my alighting to allow Miss S get in front, having spent the last half hour feasting on her frontage, i needed to check her out from behind. Her curvy bottom, a delight to behold, offered me my first dilemma for the day, should I keep walking behind her or proceed to StarBucks for my usual fix of caffeine? Hmm any other day and this would be a no-brainer, but such was her draw that i ended up walking a further half-mile trailing and enjoying one of the most beautiful sights of nature before my fun was cut-short as she entered her office.
[b][/b]

Nice one m8, luv it lol, keep it up

tnx m8 glad u liked it

Day 2

06:22: The autumnal weather is upon us now, with the sky still covered. The train arrives on time today, but is packed to the rafters suggesting that the earlier train was probably cancelled. I aim as usual for the 2nd carriage but there was not a single spare seat, same for the 3rd carriage until I finally managed to find one on the 4th. Miss P, on the same bay of seats as me is not quite in the same league as Miss S, which was a disappointment on its own. Still the 2 minutes walk out of Charing Cross station might just offer me some scant consolation.
Miss P, obviously a Nigerian woman, with long braided hair (married unfortunately) is sat across me reading a copy of Pastor E A Adeboye’s daily Devotional; supplemented with her slimline Bible.
•   06:29: Train arrives; at the next station, and there’s hardly any seat left as commuters are now forced to cluster around the door. Very unusual at this time of the day; Mr. X, stupidly spreads himself on a three-seater with his dog occupying the opposite row of seats, a quick glance by the commuters eager to rest their bottoms was met with a flippant one from Mr. X. His scruffy look coupled with his smell meant no one dared challenge him.

•   06:33: Arriving at Greenwich station, a third of the train was emptied as commuters alighted to join the DLR going to either Canary wharf or Lewisham. A familiar face gets on the train just as I was about to move further up the the carriages to locate the irresistible Miss S. And before I could evade her, Yemisi had taken her seat next to mine. I somehow knew that my quest for carnal gratification from Miss S was somehow over for today.
Yemisi: Hi, how are you?
Me: oh I’m fine, long time, ba wo ni?
Yemisi: Am fine ooo, how come you haven’t called me ehn? Se o da be?
Me: Please don’t be annoyed, I’ve been very busy…… how come you’re on this train?
Yemisi: I’m on training in Piccadilly Circus all this week, so I catch this train.
She spent the next 15 minutes relaying her plans to return to Nigeria in the bid to find a husband. At 29, don’t you think I should be married? She asked jokingly as we approached Charing Cross Station; hmm I replied sheepishly, seriously hoping to shake her off in a bid to catch a glimpse of Miss S only to be coaxed into having a cup of coffee with her.

•   06:40: Train finally arrives at destination, anti-climactic end for me…

Do o! No vex. I'm sure there will be other days for u to stare at Miss S legs.

Very interesting, sha.

Picture reminds me of familiar scenery inside Molue for Lagos. Chei! Oyinbo self dey hang! Na wa o

Day 3

06:22: Typical of the British weather, the dark dreary start we had yesterday morning has been replaced by fresh and sunny one; making the short walk to the station rather pleasant. Arriving a few minutes early, I decided to take a detour via the north side where train users are allowed to park their car. As I walked past this BMW, I couldn’t help but notice what looked like a man slipping his hands up the lady’s legs; the two oblivious to my presence as they passionately kissed and fondled each other, for a moment I contemplated missing my train if just to enjoy the “freeview”.

The train arrives empty and as it pulled into the station, I was glad there was plenty seats. I proceeded to board the 2nd carriage and was glad to find 2 empty seats either side of the gorgeous Miss S; can I use this seat? I asked indirectly telling her to remove one of the three bags she appears to have. Oh sure, she responded in a “wickedly” sexy voice, which apparently gave me goose pimples. I offered my gratitude as I took my seat beside her and directly opposite two eastern European men who looked liked construction workers fast asleep.

• 06:25: As the train arrived at the next station, I couldn’t help but feel utterly disgusted at the two men seated opposite me, the fact that they had their hand shoved down their tracksuit trousers while snoring to high heavens was just so unsightly; imagine what she’s thinking I said to myself. Miss S was dressed in a stripped blue shirt, with her top 2 buttons undone revealing quite a lot of cleavage, and unfortunately a trouser. Are you a lawyer? I asked spurred on by the need to hear her sweet voice again; oh no, she replied with the most heart-melting smile ever, and why did you ask she added. At this point I knew this was my moment to strike, but before I could utter a word, I was inconveniently interrupted by this woman, an Nigerian I assumed judging by the “Ghana must Go” bag she carried and her Ankara dress, who demanded that Miss S remove her bags for her to occupy the seat between us. I managed to move in allowing her to occupy the aisle seat moving me closer to my target.

• 06:33: I quickly resumed my discourse with Miss S, explaining that the sheer elegance of her outlook had made me think she was a lawyer.

Miss S: oh I see, I’m not a lawyer, but I work in Compliance for one of Coutts Bank.
Me: Damn! I was hoping you were one, just in case I got into trouble so that you can represent me.
Miss S: Laughing Oh well I’m not so please don’t get yourself into trouble. And what do you do?

Me: I’m a petroleum engineer; yeah I know it sucks…

Miss S: My ex used to work for shell, he was a systems analyst, he worked in Nigeria and Oman a lot. I actually spent some time with him in Port arcourt or how do you pronounce it?
Me: It’s pronounced Port Harcourt. Did you say your ex? How on earth can a guy break up with a bomb like you…lol
Miss S: Well you’ll have to ask him about that.

As the train went past the Shell building in Waterloo, she pointed out to me that this was where he used to work. My day was literary made when she stated that she’d been single for 3 months now and yea she had 1o minutes to spare for a cup of latte at Costa.
I faced small dilemma as the train arrived at the station, do I grab the opportunity with Miss S or do I help the Nigerian woman, with her heavy bags? Can I afford to let the momentum I had built with Miss S slip by my act of kindness? Hmmm well I stylishly dodged the woman as I dog-tailed Miss S out of the station to the Costa shop, hoping that the next 10 minutes will earn me a lifetime with her….

Hmmm! This page has been bookmarked.
Love the way u write.

Thanks

nice write-up man. very gd

Day 4

06:19: I woke up quite late this morning, thanks to late night chatting on Nairaland and Facebook. It didn’t help that my flatmate(well actually my brother, but he does Bleep-all round the house) had spent the night at his bird’s place; so I didn’t get any help waking up.
Its Friday, so I didn’t have to dress formal, jeans and my RL rugby shirt to the rescue. I jumped in the car in a bid to catch the train, and as I was parking I noticed the train pulling into the station.

•   06:22: I just about managed to get on the last carriage of the train as the door slammed shut, the only available seat being the one opposite the toilet. Two minutes later I knew I had to get out of this carriage at the next stop, a man had emerged from the toilet and left the door ajar, the stench was choking, and the fact that the man was of black race, possibly African merely added to my disgust. I wonder what he’d eaten, I thought.


•   06:27: Train arrives at next stop and I promptly dash off in a bid to get on the next carriage, luckily I managed to get a seat next to a lady. Although not quite in the same league as Miss S, who by the way was on holiday, travelling down to Cornwall to spend the weekend with her parents, and yes we did exchange Facebook details and yes her name is Rachael; this lady is what I like to refer to as a REAL WOMAN. Full cleavage, tall and yes a proper black woman, just as I was wondering if she is a naija, Ghanian or Caribbean, her phone went off and by the time she’d ended the call it was clear she was infact the latter. Seated across the aisle from are three mid-20’s guys, whose holiday tale is proving almost as tantalising as the prospect of chatting up this woman. I soon gave up any plans to move in on her on sighting a picture of what looked like that of her husband and child on her mobile phone as she types a text message.   

Swiftly turning my attention to the guys as I read my copy of The Metro,

Guy 1: Ok, tell us did you shag that fat bird?
Guy 2: Trying very hard to avoid the question  of course I didn’t, did you see her tits egwwwwwwwww,  he replies as they all burst into laughter.
Guy 3: Ah come on Glen, I heard you did her outside the club in Ayia Napa,
Guy 1: Her friend said she saw her giving you a head, in the alley…

Guy 2: Ok! I did, he replies albeit in a lower tones probably sensing that their conversation was now generating unwelcomed attention from the rather poseur commuters.
He went on to detail how he pulled the girl from Essex, and after a couple of drinks took her to an alleyway outside the club where they both had sex.
Guy 3: So how many girls did you shag that week?

Guy 1 and 2 :  Ten each!

Guy 3: Wicked! Any threesomes?
Guy 2 :  Yeah, I did these Ukranian friends on the 2nd night, though I have to say I was very drunk and high on e.
Guy 1 :  Not for me man, I tried but these Geordie birds just didn’t wanna know, I swear I should have drugged them, Bob you should see the size of their tits!

•   06:33: The juicy tale was proving a hit among the male commuters in that section of the train, but not the female ones some of them registering their disgust with the occasional hiss and shake of the head.

06:34: A few minutes before Charing Cross station, one of the guys catches a glimpse of a woman giving them an eyeful, he responds by asking, and what are you looking at bitch? To which the woman replies mess off! As she makes her way to the door of the train perhaps trying to escape any confrontation with the guys. One of the guy stands and follows her to the door, who are you telling to mess off? I will mash you up now, you c*nt! Look at you am sure you haven’t had a good shag in ages! He continued as his mates tell him to back off albeit half-heartedly. The woman is soon rescued by some men who stood between her and the snarling guy, thankfully for her the train arrived a few minutes early and the drama was brought to an abrupt end.

06:38: The disappointment of not seeing Miss S (Rachael) was more than made up for by the tale and afters of the holiday boys.

Just goes to show there’s never a dull moment on the UK train.

Well till Monday, when I hope to bring you snippets of my rendezvous with Rachael at Tiger Tiger Night Club on Sunday, have a nice weekend…

hhahahaha

I know Rachael whose parents live in Cornwall!!

What a small world, She works in Compliance for one of Coutts Bank.

rotflmao!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Allta:

hhahahaha

I know Rachael whose parents live in Cornwall!!

What a small world, She works in Compliance for one of Coutts Bank.

rotflmao!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hey stay off my bird ooooooooooooooo

Kenny G, nice thread m8t, keep us updated bout miss S

Week 2 Day 1[/color][color=#990000]

06:19: I woke up late this morning, (again!”) actually, this tends to happen every Monday; I burst a gut to reach the station in time, and lo, the train will arrive at least 5 minutes late today.

• 06:22: Sitting on the station bench, panting I cant help but wonder how long I can afford to keep doing this early morning dash. Maybe when I win the lottery, or maybe when I marry a politician’s daughter, I mused as my imagination run wild.
The previous weekend had started on a slow note for me, I had gone out clubbing on Friday night and Saturday was more or less spent catching up on stuff you just don’t have time for during the week, laundry, bills food shopping etc.
Sunday though was by far the highlight of the weekend for me, I had arranged to meet with Rachael (Miss S) at the O2 centre in Greenwich with some of her friends to watch the Sony Erickson Marathon.
My brother and I met her and two of her friends Sarah and Shayo, at the O2 around 11am, downed a few PIMMS, then proceeded to take the 20 minutes boat ride to the Embankment. A few hours later, and after a meal and a film (Surrogate at Leicester Square), we headed to Hyde Park.
We rounded up the evening at Tiger Tiger Bar in Piccadilly around 8:45pm, before boarding the train back home. Well thankfully she was so tired she ended up sleeping on my chest on the journey back.
I went a few stops further to see that she got home safely, well the idea was to get a goodnight kiss actually, and behold she didn’t disappoint, we ended up tongue-twisting for a good 5 minutes and boy I had to say she is bloody good kisser. I got home to find out that Dipo, my brother had scored with Shayo as well, the problem is he already has a girl friend, but the again he always knows how to juggle a few birds at the same time.


• 06:28: Train arrives and as usual I target the 2nd carriage, but unfortunately the seat next to Rachael is occupied. We wink to each other as I walk pass to take my seat two rows behind hers and unfortunately behind a rather burly man whose snoring was enough to cause temporary deafness. Worse still the young man across the aisle had his MP3 so loud that the sound of Oasis can be heard almost 30meters away.


06:31:Train arrives at the next stop, and two black men (well Nigerians based on their pidgin English) joins the train and promptly occupy the vacant seats opposite me.
Any lingering doubts about their nationality were soon put to bed when without any care began to talk about business deals and women.
Guy 1: Jay-Jay na Bleep up jare, I tell am say make he no go the babe house in the morning he no wan listen.
Guy 2: So wetin come happen?
Guy 1: The neighbour don dey notice say the girl no dey go school, and that guys dey come that house once her mama don go work. So I suspect say na them inform social services. So last week as Jay-jay commot from his security job in the morning he wan go Bleep her again, dat na when social service and police raid the house.
Him talk say na for parlour he dey do the girl when they enter catch am,
Guy 2: eh ya. Dat guy sef, na yansh go kill am!

Guy 1: How Royal Mail jare?
Guy 2 : Ol boy last week na im o! You sabi that scam wey we dey do with “Ike”? well me and my guys hit £20k from 6 cards.
Guy 1: Really? I hope say u guys dey careful sha o?
Guy 2 : We dey carefull pa, infact after next month I dey commot before yawa blow, these oyinbos dey be mugu. I don even dey shag my supervisor so dat she go dey put me for night shift when security no dey tight.
Guy 1: Haba, omo, na dat mama you dey shag?
Guy 2: laughs hysterically, Sharon na about 40 now she no dey dat old, besides na just to get wetin I want from her. The babe like the thing too much sef na everytime I dey off she go dey call me say make I come Bleep her,

• 06:48: The juicy tale is interrupted by the train driver’s announcement that we will soon be arriving at Charing Cross and all passengers to ensure they have all their belongings with them.
This was the cue for Rachael to leave her seat and walks towards me, I did the same and we both met near the door offering her a French kiss.

06:51: we alight from the train holding hands as we proceeded to what is now fast becoming our Lovers’ Rendezvous Costa, for coffee and maybe a well deserved kiss as well

I went a few stops further to see that she got home safely, well the idea was to get a goodnight kiss actually, and behold she didn’t disappoint, we ended up tongue-twisting for a good 5 minutes and boy I had to say she is bloody good kisser.

Kenny G,,na wa ooo, u no even waste time!!

Shola2009:

Kenny G,,na wa ooo, u no even waste time!!

shola, wetin i 4 do now? lol

Hmmm! Kiss Kiss Kiss!
I look forward to reading tomorrow's story.

KG . . . . . _{*Mouth open, tears running down from the eyes, falls down and faints*}

nana:

Hmmm! Kiss Kiss Kiss!
I look forward to reading tomorrow's story.

by God's grace i wont disappoint, lol

Missy B:

KG . . . . . _{*Mouth open, tears running down from the eyes, falls down and faints*}

o m , how did she find out?

Not bad!

Week 2 Day 2

06:14: I leave home early today to renew my train season ticket. 5 minutes later and £80 lighter, I was left questioning my continued stay in UK; the headline on the Financial Times “ Chinese Seek Huge Stake In Nigerian Oil” only exasperated my frustrations. Why am I not a politicial for goodness sake, I asked myself? Instead I’m here waking up at such ungodly hours all for £s and ok a bit of Miss S.

•   06:22: My thought was soon interrupted by the arrival of the train, I boarded the 2nd carriage and luckily she had managed to secure a seat next to her with one of her three bags.
I soon forgot about the pain of parting with £80 once she ushered me to the seat with the warmest smile, followed by the most heart-melting voice Hi, how are you? She asked. I’m fine thanks, I replied as I help her hands.
It was payday last Friday, and I had offered to buy her lunch, but since she was away with her family in Cornwall we decided to do lunch yesterday. We spent the afternoon at Wagamama, in Soho enjoying the best of Oriental cuisine and of course gave me the chance to cement my burgeoning relationship with her.

•   06:28: A drunken male Caucasian, boards the train and was soon drawn to our bay of seats, either because of the empty seat of the sight of Miss S’s silky smooth long legs fully exposed to the glare of all and sundry by her mini skirt. He decided to seat directly opposite Miss S in the hope that he can ogle her legs or maybe even get the chance to sight her undies; aware of his evil plot, she proceeded to readjust her pose, grabbing my hand and placing it on her laps as if to tell the drunk, [b]“I’m Taken”.[/b]This didn’t go down well with the man as he unleashed a tirade of abuse at me,
Man: Who the f*ck are you? Nigger!
Expecting to get a response from me, I declined to indulge his foolishness, instead I decide to turn on my IPOD and share the ear-piece with Miss S. He turns to the other commuters on the other side of the aisle and continues his swearing.

A few minutes later, he gets up and pulls the emergency alarm chain, designed to alert the driver of any danger. At the sound of the alarm, the train stops in the middle of nowhere, the angry look on the faces of the commuters did little to dampen the drunk’s misbehaviour as he unzipped his trousers and urinated near the door.


06:36:Train driver announces that he will be making an unscheduled stop to investigate the incident and possibly alert the police.
At the next stop, the man sensing the rage of the commuters quickly jumps off the train.
The train driver announces that the train will be held here till the police arrives, and with no other train into Charing Cross from the stop for another 30 minutes, almost all the commuters alighted from the train in a bid to find alternative means.

As we alighted from the train, two Jamaican guys, seething with rage, met the drunken man laughing on the platform, what happened next made my day! They unleashed series of slaps, spit and curses on the man that within 3 minutes he literally sobered up.

06:51: we eventually arrive at Charing Cross, and no thanks to the incident on the train we missed the chance to romanticize over our usual cup of coffee, mess that drunken man!

What an intruder!

two Jamaican guys, seething with rage, met the drunken man laughing on the platform, what happened next made my day! They unleashed series of slaps, spit and curses on the man [/b]that within 3 minutes he literally sobered up.

The b***h got it comming!! a [b]series of slaps, not one, but a series!, lol

I love this. I think i need to revisit my monkey biz.

Laugh wan kill me die.

06:15: I woke up early today despite my late night night activity on Nairaland Forum. The short walk to the station was just as uneventful as the grey and dreary autumnal weather. Damn! Its October tomorrow and in about 90days the end of the year; how many of my targets have I met? I asked as I trudged to the station. Is Miss S going to become Mrs Kenny_g? I doubt!

• 06:22: Train arrives and as pre-arranged I navigate to the 1st carriage. Rachael and I had agreed yesterday in the light of the drunken lout to avoid the 2nd carriage, something I would later come to regret. As I make my way through the carriages I couldn’t help but “hail” the two Jamaican men who “sobered” up the lout yesterday, nice one mate, I said with a smile of approval.
She soon beckons on me to come over to a 2-by-2 seating bay, and I promptly take my seat opposite her after exchanging greetings…(well a gentle kiss); she is dressed in a pink low-top blouse displaying the fullness of her rather full cleavage, a knee-high skirt and a high-heeled black shoe. I couldn’t help but wonder when I would get the chance to __________, well you know what!

• 06:28: After the ususal pleasantries we proceeded to talk about everything football from Liverpool#s shock defeat in Florence to Arsenal’s lucky scrape against Olympiakos; and then to Chelsea and Man Utd’s game tonight.
Miss S’s dad had been a lifelong Chelsea season ticket holder, so she has arranged for us to go and see the game against Liverpool on Sunday, am not sure how this would go as I am an avid Liverpool fan, but for the sake of a kiss and maybe more wont mind Liverpool losing if it would make her happy.

06:31: Just as we were getting into the groove, a familiar but wholly unwelcomed face boarded the train. ‘Deola, walks towards me and asks to use the empty seat beside me; we had dated for 6 months and broke up while I was walking in Oman last December.
She ignores Miss S despite my efforts to introduce her, and sets about asking varied questions as to why I had ignored her calls, and how I used and dumped her.
‘Deola and I had a tempestuous relationship, she always wanted to have her way, and would go to any lengths to achieve that; despite my several attempts to keep the relationship alive I soon reached my tether last December when she insisted I left Oman and travel with her to Nigeria for her sister’s wedding. This despite the fact that I had coughed up £2000 for the wedding, and the fact that I was on call that weekend; her decision to issue me with an ultimatum was the last straw.

06:51: The remainder of the journey was uncomfortable to say the least, and I couldn’t help but wonder what must be going through Miss S’s mind, have I blown it with her?
Then again, the desperation in Deola’s tone could also mean she wants me to hammer her again, now would I say no?
We arrive at the station, and needless to say Miss S disappeared without me, a sure sign that I AM IN DEEP SHIT!

na real wa oh. deola don spoil show for you but then again rachael's type should be the understanding type. fire on my guy. u can def use one stone to kill the two birds jare.

Awww! Hope u sort urself out Deola and make up with Racheal. . .

Damn! I feel for you bro. Can't wait to read what happened between you and miss S the next day.

As for Deola, Hmmm - couldn't she have been at least civil? I  think someone on this forum once commented that once debe, always debe but It's up to you if u wanna walk down that road again.

06:16: groggy-eyed and tired, I struggled to get out of bed, wishing the independence holiday in Nigeria would extend to the UK for once. I had spent most of last night attempting to rectify the supposed damage ‘Deola had done to my budding relationship with Miss S on the phone; only to be constantly interrupted by Deola’s sms message appealing for my pardon and that she would really like us to give it another go. At the end, I wasn’t really sure if I had managed to restore Miss S’s faith in me especially as she made it clear she didn’t like “playas”.

• 06:22: Train arrives and to my utter chagrin Miss S was nowhere to be found, foraging through all the carriages until I got to the very end her glowing smile, luscious lips and perfect body frame was all to conspicuously absent. Crest-fallen, I slumped into a seat almost kicking the lady opposite in the process.
Various thoughts raced through my mind, and for once I was left to wonder if indeed I was in love with her, as the feelings of utter disappointment can only be explained by a heart in love.

The journey into work is understandably uneventful, surrounded by a hoard of stern-faced commuters with not as much as a single conversation; the deafening silence made me miss the days of Lagos “Molue where at least you’d have several hawkers providing a side entertainment in the overcrowded bus.

• 06:28: I decide to switch on my cell phone and was immediately alerted to that I had 3 voice messages and an SMS; I intuitively concluded that the calls were from ‘Deola, but reluctantly decided to listen to the message. To my surprise, they were actually Miss S, as she had left two voice messages letting me know that in the heat of yesterday’s event she had forgotten to tell me that she was having her car serviced this morning and as such had booked the morning off; and would like to meet up for lunch/dinner later today.
Suddenly my countenance was revived, only to be dampened by the last message, ‘Deola wants to know when she can come over to my place to drop some of my stuff she has with her; I knew immediately there was more to this than meets the eye and promptly begin to type my response asking what exactly she wants. Just then, I decide to check the content of the SMS message before my response, lo, it was Kola reminding me of his Wedding Introduction at Hendon on Saturday. Kola and Bukky are mutual friends of Deola and I making it extremely awkward for me especially in the light of her recent renewed determination to rekindle the affair.

06:33: As I proceed to compose my riposte, I was soon distracted by the unmistakeable sound of Segun’s voice; “ Ogbeni, e wo lo se?” he asked. Hey, eyan mi, ba wo ni, I replied with our traditional Nigerian handshake.
Segun and I grew up in the same area in Lagos and attended the same primary school, but have both coursed different paths in life. He had refused to grab the several opportunities his parent’s wealth had carved out for him instead preferring to live life on the fast lane to nowhere. Extricated from the wealth of his parents and saddled with two kids from same number of women, segun has had to do all sort of menial jobs as well as fraudulent ones to maintain his debauched lifestyle. Today he was on his way to a fruit packing warehouse job in Camden, and true to his nature he was already 2 hours late. It didn’t take him long either to unleash his charm on the rather cute lady sat opposite us. She must be in her mid to late twenties, of Caribbean parents but was born and raised in UK; Segun cooked up several lies and surprisingly the girl despite the spurious chat-up-lines he used ended up giving him her phone number and welcome his offer to call her later tonight. Why do women do this? I asked myself? At the end of it all she will come back accusing him of being a player when she knew from the off that he was lying!


06:45: I arrived at the station relieved that things are still on track with Miss S, but feeling sorry for Segun’s latest prey